


(We Could Be) Immortals

by GamerAlexis



Series: Live With Me Forever [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Immortals, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:37:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamerAlexis/pseuds/GamerAlexis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They discovered their condition quite by accident.  Being criminals that frequently committed high stake heists, it was bound to happen eventually.</p><p>With being immortal comes a whole new avenue of ambitions  and nothing will stand in their way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a drabble, but I really like this idea and Immortals Fake AH Crew is one of my favorite AUs right now.
> 
> Title from song "Immortals" from Fall Out Boy

It started with Gavin.

It was their first, serious heist as a crew and Geoff couldn't be fucking prouder.  He spent a long time collecting a small, six man crew.  He grabbed Jack from a street race, collected two mercenaries, Michael and Ryan, picked up Ray, a tiny thief, and kind of adopted a British dork with a penchant for weapons.

They were a bizarre group of criminals, coming to know each other in petty thefts and various hits.  It was their first time in a crew and they were all unsure of how to proceed, just making it up as they went.

There were sirens echoing in the air and Geoff was sliding into the car while Ryan floored it, his earpiece shrieking in his ear.  Explosions rocked behind them and Michael's maniacal laughter filled the air.

"Go, go, go!"

Choppers rained bullets overhead but by then, Ryan had pulled them out into the street, dodging cop cars and pedestrians.  Adrenaline coursed through his body and the bag of money was heavy on Geoff's lap.

Not too bad for a first heist.

Then Jack was screaming, Gavin's voice went silent, and it seemed like everything in Geoff's heart sank to his toes.

"What the fuck is going on?" Geoff screeched into his comm unit.  "Where's fucking Bravo Two?!"

"Something happened," Michael said between huffs of breaths.  "Fuck, Alpha One, I don't know.  The car just blew up and Gav was in it."

"What?!" Ryan snapped, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel.  He took a turn too quick, tires squealing on the asphalt.  "Where's Jack?!"

"Fuck!" Michael's voice went up three octaves.

"What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening?" Geoff growled.  "Fucking, where is Gavin?  What happened to Jack?  What is going on?!"

Ryan let out a snarl and turned viciously into an alley.  Geoff was flung across the seat, sliding across the leather and crashing into Ryan.

"You need to answer, you fuckers," Ryan said lowly.

"Um, listen," Ray said, his voice tight.  "Something happened and, um, it's fucking bizarre, Geoff."

"Want to explain?" Geoff managed through clenched teeth.  A migraine was building up behind his eyes.

"Just, oh god," Michael gasped.  "Geoff, listen, I understand the plan, believe me I fucking understand.  But this is serious.  Just, fucking, meet us back at the apartment."

Geoff turned to glance at Ryan, giving a shrug.  "Fine, we'll met you there.  Comms off.  See you soon."

The silence was deafening after the screaming and Geoff let out a heavy sigh of relief.  Ryan pulled out slowly and carefully drove to the apartment.  He desperately tried to piece together what happened with the others.

Gavin had to be dead, he had to be.  Geoff could kill himself for sending Gavin into the danger, hearing his comm go silent, the echoes of the explosion haunting him.  Then Jack's suspicious silence, Michael's frantic voice.

"What do you think happened?" Geoff asked softly.

"I don't dare think," Ryan replied shortly.

The apartment came up close and they ran inside, Geoff clutching the money bag close to his chest.  He pushed the door open and the smell of burning cloth and hair floated towards him.  The others were sitting in the living room; all four and all alive.

Geoff let the tension roll of his shoulders.  They were alive.  He tossed the bag onto the table and took three steps forward.  He stopped; something was wrong.

Jack's shirt was riddled with blood and bullet holes even though he was alive and whole.  Gavin's hair was ashy, tips smoldering, and his shirt was smoking.

"What the fuck."

"I died," Gavin gasped.  His hands were shaking on his lap.  "The car exploded and I died.  I felt it.  Then I came back."

Geoff gaped.  "Excuse me?"

"I died too," Jack whispered.  "The choppers came in and shot me.  I felt every one of them.  Then it all went black and I was back."

"Fucking, what?" Geoff sat down, desperately trying to understand.

"I saw it," Michael whispered.  "I hid in an alley, blew up the semi, and the cops ran off.  Then, fucking Gavin stood up from the wrecked car and Jack was coughing from bullet wounds."

"What the hell?" Geoff turned to Ray.  "Did you see this too?"

"Fuck, Geoff, I don't know what I saw," Ray pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes.  "I saw them die and I saw them come back."

"I've heard of this," Ryan spoke suddenly.  "The immortality."

"Immortality?" the others repeated.

Ryan shrugged.  "It's kind of a legend.  Like a recessive gene in humanity that allows a microscopic amount of people to live forever.  Apparently Gavin and Jack have that."

"That's bullshit," Geoff shook his head.  "Something else happened because there is no fucking way that they're actually immortal.  It's not possible."

Ryan shrugged, pulled out a gun, and shot Gavin and Jack cleanly in the head.  Michael and Ray shouted and jumped from the seat.  Geoff jumped and punched the gun from Ryan's hand.

Blood was pooling on the floor where Jack and Gavin's dead bodies fell.  Geoff didn't normally feel nauseous in the face of blood and gore, but this was different.  Seeing Gavin, forehead blown to shit, pale on the floor beside Jack, eyes wide and glassy, was completely different than the others he's killed.

"What the fuck is your deal?!"

"It's the best way to prove it!"

"By fucking shooting them?"

"You killed them, Ryan!"

"They're coming back, calm your tits."

"No!  My tits will not be calm when you killed two of our crew mates in fucking cold blood!"

Gavin coughed and sat up, rubbing his forehead where the bullet had penetrated his brain.  There was no hole, not even a scar on his forehead.  Jack gave a groan and rolled over, his forehead in a similar state of wholeness.

"See?" Ryan said.  "Fine."

"You shot me!" Gavin jumped up and pointed to Ryan.  "You didn't even hesitate!  You just killed me!  And Jack!"

"What the hell," Jack groaned.  "That is not how you test immortality, Ryan."

"Better here instead of on a job," Ryan shrugged.  "Which, by the way, is an incredible asset that we need to use."

"Fucking maniac," Michael shook his head.  He stood up and stomped to his bedroom.

"God, Ryan," Ray stood up, hands shaking.  "Are we friends or not?"

"You know it's really unpleasant," Jack slowly sat up.  "We are literally being thrust back into our bodies after being killed!  And dying fucking hurts.  I felt that gunshot in my brain."

"Eh, it's pretty cool," Gavin shrugged.  "I mean, I think I could get used to it."

"No, no, no," Geoff insisted.  "You are not getting used to it.  You're not dying again.  We don't know if this immortality lasts forever.  Maybe it's like cats and you only have nine lives before you die all the way."

"I don't think that's how it works," Ryan said.

"And you!" Geoff turned to Ryan.  "I don't want to hear another fucking thing from you until this immortality shit is figured out.  You're a trigger happy bastard on the best of days and I don't trust your judgement right now."

Ryan sighed but lifted his hands in surrender.  Geoff sighed and sat at the kitchen table pouring a glass of whiskey.  First heist and everything went wrong and immortality was suddenly their new reality.


	2. Chapter 2

Michael punched the wall in his room, fist passing through the drywall.  Debris fell on the ground and Michael was fairly certain his knuckles were bruised to shit.  The pain kept him sane.  It was a solid, sharp, splash of clarity as he tried to forget what he just saw.  Emphasis on _try_.

Because it wasn’t like Michael could just forget seeing Gavin explode in the car.  He couldn’t forget seeing Jack fall, chest riddled with bullet holes until he looked like Swiss cheese.  His mind kept replaying the events like a horrible playback.  Seeing Gavin stand up, body covered in soot and coughing.  Watching as Jack’s body lurched beneath his hands and life came back to his eyes.

There was no explaining it but also no denying it.  He and Ray had exchanged worried glances the entire drive back.  Maybe they didn’t see things right – eyes played tricks all the time after all.  There was a chance they saw things completely wrong.  They didn’t know for sure that Gavin died in the explosion or that Jack was shot down by the cops.

It could have all been an elaborate ruse of some fucked up nature.  Gavin didn’t explode; Jack didn’t get shot.  It just _looked_ like they did because fucking immortality didn’t exist.  Michael had almost convinced himself of that when they were back in the apartment.

Then Ryan fucking shot them.

Michael’s entire body went cold at the memory and he locked his bedroom door.  Michael and Ryan were both mercenaries and they worked together a couple of times.  Ryan was as mysterious as they come and when Geoff was collecting a crew, Ryan still kept to himself.  Michael liked to think he was open minded about people, but after all this – after he shot _Gavin_ – he was hard pressed to trust Ryan.

He could still hear the sound of Jack and Gavin’s bodies hitting the floor.  The gunshot still echoed in his head.  Seeing Gavin on the floor, blood pooling around his body, broke something in Michael and he wanted to tear Ryan limb from limb.  Something possessive and angry swarmed inside him and it fucking scared him.  He tried hard to feel that same anger at Jack’s death, but couldn’t do it.  Something about seeing Gavin helpless on the ground shook him hard.

These dark thoughts swirled through his head and, eventually, Michael fell into a fitful sleep.  He dreamed of blood on his hands, of Gavin’s broken body, Ryan laughing maniacally over them all.

He woke up in a cold sweat, legs tangled in his blankets.  The world flipped over and Michael was on the floor staring at the white ceiling of his bedroom.  Someone was banging on the door and shouting his name.

“Michael!”

“Go away, Ray,” Michael muttered back.

“Listen, man, I respect your privacy, but if you don’t come out then I’m breaking in!”

Michael groaned, detached himself from blankets and stumbled over to the door.  He yanked it open and gave Ray the biggest glare he could.  Judging from Ray’s grin, it wasn’t successful.

“Well, aren’t you fucking cute,” Ray said, pushing his way into Michael’s bedroom.  He sat on Michael’s unmade bed and proceeded to pull out his phone.  “Look, you and I are on research duty for the day.”

“What duty?” Michael closed the door and rifled through his dresser for clothes.

“Geoff’s idea,” Ray made a face and furiously typed on his phone.  “Since we saw the whole thing go down, Geoff wants us to be the ones to research the whole immortality thing.”

“Awesome,” Michael said sarcastically.  “Where’s everyone else?”

“Jack and Gav are on lockdown, Geoff’s pulling some strings, and Ryan is off on a murder spree or some shit.”

Michael snorted and yanked on a clean shirt.  After shooting Jack and Gavin, of course Ryan would want to be as far away from Michael’s apartment as possible.  Though, Michael really couldn’t call it just his apartment anymore – not since Gavin and Ray took over one spare bedroom and Jack and Geoff took over the other spare.  Not when his fridge held Gavin’s favorite foods from England or his cupboard had Geoff’s pricey liquor.  And especially not since Ray moved at least half his games here and Ryan had a dresser of clothes in Michael’s room.

  It wasn’t a great base to have, a tiny apartment in South Los Santos, but it was better than nothing.  Geoff had a little flat by Vinewood that he shared with Jack which was too tiny for a six man crew; Ryan had a cottage somewhere in the dust bowl of the Great Senora Desert (though no one had ever seen it).  Geoff wouldn’t shut up about eventually owning a penthouse suite in downtown Los Santos, but that wasn’t about to happen soon.  Especially not since shit hit the fan.

Ray laughed at his phone and his thumbs flew across the keyboard.  Michael stepped from his master bathroom, having rinsed his mouth with mouthwash, and couldn’t help the smirk that came across his face as Ray giggled to his phone.  He’d been doing that a lot recently, being shy and fucking blushing at his phone.

“Who’s the bae?” Michael asked.

Ray snapped his phone shut and tucked it into his pocket, “Doesn’t matter.  You ready?”

“Whatever you say.”

Ray flipped him the bird and Michael cackled.

 

Research duty was just as boring as Michael thought it would be.  They couldn’t exactly just go to the local library and ask for books on immortality.  Google only gave a wiki article and historical people who wanted to be immortal.  Pretty much nothing helpful.  Ryan said something about a recessive gene in humanity, but even that wasn’t helpful!

“Fuck, all I’m getting is vampire things,” Ray groaned.  “Why couldn’t they have come with, fucking, I don’t know – Immortality 101: What To Do When You Live Forever.”

Michael laughed.  “So you’re immortal, here’s a pamphlet with all you need to know!”

“God, I wish,” Ray went back to the computer screen.

Michael clicked a promising link about the Philosopher’s Stone.  Maybe there was something promising in alchemy – it didn’t work out for them, but hey, new day and new technology.

Sirens echoed outside and Michael glanced out the window to see an intense car chase, a familiar black and green Zentorno leading the charge.  At least someone was having a good time.

“Hey,” Michael nudged Ray.  “What would you do if you were immortal?”

Ray glanced at him, eyes wary.  “You’re not going to test that theory, are you?”

“Of course not!” Michael protested.  “Just – if you were immortal, like Jack and Gav, what would you do?  Because I, for one, would do so much shit.”

“I don’t know,” Ray shrugged.  “I mean, what’s the point of immortality if you were alone?  You know?”

Michael nodded and tried to be serious – but a teasing grin came up anyway.  “This is about your bae, isn’t it?”

“Shut up!” Ray’s face flushed.  “He’s not my bae!”

“Well, who the fuck is he then?” Michael asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ray said with a note of finality.  “C’mon.  We should head back.  Ryan’s probably going to be hurt from the car chase.”

Michael frowned.  Ray hadn’t looked back when the sirens whipped past.  How would he have known that Ryan was even in a car chase?  Michael shook his head and followed Ray out to the street.  One mystery at a time.

Michael’s apartment was suspiciously quiet when they came back.  Jack and Gavin were playing a dumb arcade game on the Xbox and Geoff was cooking in the tiny kitchen.  It smelled delicious – whatever it was, but Geoff could cook Top Ramen and it would smell delicious.  Ryan wasn’t there.  Ray wilted next to Michael.

“Any luck?” Geoff asked as soon as the door closed.

“Nothing,” Michael sighed, kicking off his shoes and collapsing by Gavin, thighs touching.  “But there’s no such thing as cat immortality.  So whatever the fuck it is, Jack and Gavin aren’t going to run out of lives any time soon.”

“That’s a relief,” Jack seemed to visibly relax.

“Fantastic!” Gavin crowed.  “Because I planned a cheeky little heist for us.”

Something slammed in the kitchen and Geoff stomped out to the living room.  “You fucking did what?!”

“C’mon, Geoff,” Gavin rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the couch.  “You keep talking about how you want us to be a legit crew and take over this city but the instant something goes tits up you want to stop?”

“I want my crew to be safe,” Geoff insisted.  “Immortality or not, I don’t want you two putting yourselves at risk!”

Jack paused the game and stood up slowly.  He walked gently to Geoff and carefully put his hands on Geoff’s shoulders.  Michael sat up straight on the couch and Ray sat down at his feet.  They stared at Geoff and Jack’s standoff, holding their collective breaths.

The three of them had debated endlessly about what was going on between Jack and Geoff.  They had been living together long before the lads and Ryan joined up on the crew and, as typical of people who lived together, had become closer than the rest.  There had been times before, when Jack and Geoff shared soft and secret looks, when touches lingered a little too long.

“Trust me, Geoff,” Jack said, hand sliding down Geoff’s shoulders and cupping his elbows.  “Whatever happens, we’ll be in this together.”

Michael swore that they were going to kiss.  They fucking leaned in and tipped their heads and he was going to win that stupid bet –

The apartment door slammed open, banging on the wall, and everyone jumped.  Ryan stood there, blood dripping down his face and staining his clothes.  His face paint was smeared and smudging down his cheeks.  There was a gash across his forehead and a huge cut over his arm.

Ray jumped up and practically launched himself at Ryan.  He stopped a literal inch from Ryan, hands carefully reaching for Ryan’s face.  Michael raised his eyebrows and glanced over to Gavin.  Gavin had the same grin on his face and wiggled his eyebrows.

Eventually, Ray reached out and gently traced a finger down Ryan’s cheek.

“What happened, Rye?” Ray asked softly.  Michael suddenly felt awkward, as if intruding.

“Chase went a bit sour at the end,” Ryan shrugged.

Ray grabbed Ryan’s hand and dragged him back to the little bathroom, leaving the other four standing in shock.  Michael gave a small grin to Gavin.

“That’s Ray’s bae, then,” Michael said softly.

Gavin cackled and the awkward air dissipated instantly.

“So about this heist…”


	3. Chapter 3

 

The next morning Gavin woke up first.  He glanced over to see Ray still asleep, phone clutched in his hand.  The apartment was quiet and he made his way to the kitchen, dressed in soft pajama pants.  The crew had been around long enough that Gavin knew each of their coffee preferences and he started the machine up.  Ryan crept out of the room he shared with Michael, if sleeping on an air mattress counted as sharing.  His face was pale and the cuts were stark red against his skin.

“Morning, Ryan,” Gavin greeted him.  “You look awful.”

Ryan managed a grim smile and sat down heavily at the kitchen table.  “You should see the other guy.”

“Ray?” Gavin quipped, a small grin tugging his lips.

That was met with a groan and eye-roll.  Ryan reached around and pulled out the coffeepot.  He poured a cup, scooped in a spoon of sugar, and took a long sip.  He didn’t break eye contact with Gavin the entire time.  Gavin fidgeted underneath the scrutiny.

“I am very aware of the feelings that Ray has for me,” Ryan said slowly and carefully.  “But this is not a lifestyle that lends itself to pursuing romantic relationships.  Especially with yours and Jack’s newfound immortality.”

“But do you like him back?” Gavin asked.

Ryan looked like he could kill Gavin which would have worried him before, but knowing that he’ll come back from death made Gavin feel a little more reckless, a little more foolish.  He felt strangely powerful, able to confront Ryan without fear.

“I am fond of the little thief,” Ryan conceded.  “Perhaps the way Geoff is fond of you.”

Gavin sighed.  “You are in a _mood_ this morning.”

Ryan hummed and drank his coffee.

Slowly, everyone else trickled out of their bedrooms and into the kitchen.  Ray wandered in, moaning like a zombie, and blindly grabbing for his coffee mug.  Michael popped in, looking too fucking cheerful for the morning.  For a ruthless mercenary, Michael was a complete morning person.  He picked up his coffee mug and threw an arm around Gavin’s shoulder.  Jack and Geoff meandered in next, rubbing sleep from their eyes.

They picked up their mugs and sat at the table with everyone else.  Michael, perky as always, started making breakfast; fried eggs, toast and jam, and bacon.  Gavin rolled his neck as the sounds and smell of cooking filled the apartment.  Ray, cupping his mug, kept shooting glances at Ryan.  Gavin slid his eyes around the table and rested on Geoff.

He was leaned up against Jack, mustache drooping and eyes closed.  His shirt was loose and hanging off his shoulders.  Gavin paused, staring at the shirt.  It was a particular green shirt, faded and worn, and it didn’t belong to Geoff.

“That’s Jack’s shirt!” Gavin accused, standing up and pointing.

Geoff blinked his eyes open and Jack stared up at Gavin.  Michael stopped cooking and turned to stare at the two.  Now that he was looking, Gavin noticed small, red bruises on Geoff’s neck.

“Oh, my god!” Gavin shouted. “You two did it!”

“Did what?” Ray asked, sleepily from behind Gavin.

“Each other!” Gavin’s voice was frantic now.  “Jack and Geoff did the do!”

Ray looked up at Gavin quizzically and blinked slowly.  “What are you on about, bro?”

Gavin groaned and almost slammed himself down on the table.  Michael hooked his chin on Gavin’s shoulder (and Gavin felt a shiver down his back at the sensation) and stared at Ray.  “Gav is saying that Geoff and Jack _fucked_.”

It took a few seconds for the words to sink into Ray’s head.  When it finally clicked, he gasped and stood up beside the other lads.  Geoff was smirking his casual, devil-may-care smile and Jack’s face was blushed red.

“How long?!” Ray demanded.

The two in question exchanged a glance.  Fuck!  How had Gavin not noticed before?  He lived with them for a bit after Geoff saved his life and Gavin thought they were close, but apparently not that bloody close!  It wasn’t until Geoff hired in Michael, started the crew, that Gavin even started to think there was something between the two.

“Forever,” Geoff said softly.

“You cheesy fuck,” Jack chuckled.  “Almost since we met.”

Gavin balked.  “You two were together while I was living with you?”

“What can I say?” Geoff shrugged.  “You’re a heavy sleeper.”

Gavin shrieked and stomped off.  Michael was laughing maniacally and shouted about breakfast but Gavin wasn’t hungry anymore.  He wanted to bleach his brain and never think about Jack and Geoff having sex while he slept in the same house as them.

 

A week later and Geoff agreed to his heist.  A goddamn _week_ of begging and pleading with all the promises.  Ray still stared at Ryan and Ryan glanced back.  Geoff and Jack were fucking sappy as shit and spent almost every moment rubbed up against each other and Michael was hovering.  If it was anyone else, Gavin would have been pissed to hell, but this was Michael and, to be honest with himself, Gavin liked the extra attention that Michael was paying him.

A week later with no more information on immortality than when they started.  A week to realize that this was their reality and that they couldn't stop now.

Gavin quivered at the front of Michael’s living room.  He had his papers spread out before him, the map at his back and markers in hand.  He was a goddamn professional and he was going to act like one.  He may not have the most professional of code names, but if Gavin was serious, code names were foolish – they wanted to be known then, by god, they were going to be fucking known.

“Here is what I have to offer,” Gavin started.  “Confusion and disorientation.  We are going to cause mass damage and mass confusion.”

“Oh, great,” Michael rolled his eyes as Gavin taped up the picture of the gas station on the wall.  “We are all going to die, aren’t we?”

“I’m not,” Jack said with a dorky grin.

“That’s right,” Gavin gestured with his marker.  “Jack and I are going to use our immortality to our advantage.”

Geoff flinched in the corner and Gavin pushed on, ignoring the jibes against his selfies (Gavin was a fucking professional damn this crew).  The plan was simple, as far as Gavin was concerned.  An in and out job - no problem.  He already called in the favor from Lindsay.  Two firetrucks, one gas truck, and a lot of explosions.  As he explained it, Gavin felt his confidence rise, especially at Michael's manic grin and reassuring nods.

"Bevs one the Maze Bank," Gavin ended with a flourish.  "Questions?"

"Shopping time!" Geoff cheered.  "We're going to look like fucking bananas."

* * *

Ryan realized one very important thing - yellow was not his color.  In fact, yellow wasn't anyone's goddamn color.  It was a fucking atrocity of a shade and Gavin should feel ashamed for choosing such a stupid heist idea.

Although Ray looked rather fetching in the yellow hat.

They gathered at the construction site that evening, waiting for the go ahead.  Geoff and Ryan were in one truck while Gavin and Ray were in the other.  Michael was sitting in his truck, glowing with sticky bombs.  Jack was leaned up against his motorcycle, helmet tucked under his arm.

"This is the most important thing," Gavin stressed.  "Jack and I can't die, okay?  Well, I guess we do die but then we come back.  We are the secret weapons in this heist and if anything goes wrong with us, just run and we'll meet you at the bank."

Geoff nodded, grim faced and Ryan couldn't stop from glancing over at Ray.

"Alright then," Gavin said.  "Secret Michael, start!"

The truck gunned it and drove off.  The comms crackled to life and Ryan listened as Michael stepped up to the store, panicked about driving a literal, live bomb.  Ryan's hands went sweaty as Jack watched from the roof.

"Think we can hear the explosion from here?" Geoff asked.

"God, they're going to see that explosion in San Andreas," Ryan replied.

Michael shouted at the cashier and sirens filled the night air.  Ryan tensed up, checking his weapons and looked over at Geoff.

"Police are outside!" Jack said.

"Blow it!" Michael screamed.

Geoff hit the button and an explosion racked the air.  The two firetrucks floored it, sirens wailing.  The gas station was burning in the distance, surrounded by skeletons of cop cars.

There was chaos on the the comms and Ryan felt that familiar itch in his body, the adrenaline coursing through him as he danced across life and death.

Gavin screamed as their truck slammed into the gas pump.

The truck exploded and Ryan's world suddenly froze.

There was a brief moment of silence and then everyone was screaming.  Jack jumped from the roof and Michael ran out of the station.  Ryan fell out of the truck and ran through the flames to the burning wreckage.

Grabbing one body, burnt and charred black, Ryan dragged it inside the gas station.  Michael grabbed the other and Jack and Geoff ran after them.  Jack jammed the door shut as more sirens came after them.

"We don't have much time," Geoff said, immediately taking control.  "We're going to have to run out back, grab a car, and escape.  Gavin will wake up along the way and Ray..."

Ryan froze and took a deep breath.  These were the hazards of the job and Ryan knew that coming into the crew.  This was why he didn't do emotions or relationships because of these moments.

"It's not fucking fair," Ryan muttered.  "Why the fuck wasn't Jack in the truck with Gavin?  We fucking know that Gavin's a hazard and it would have made more sense to keep our damn immortals together instead of Ray!"

"Hey, hey," Jack knelt down next to Ryan.  "It's going to be okay.  This is how we knew it was going to end.  For all of us."

The body in Michael's arms stirred and groaned.  Ryan felt sick to his stomach as he touched the body in his arms - Ray.  Broken too young and burnt too soon.

"Dude, where the fuck are my glasses?"

If Ryan's heart did any more flips or dips he was going to fucking die.  Michael dropped the body in his arms and Ray groaned, rubbing the ash from his face.

"Fuck you too," he said.  "I come back to life and this is how to treat me?"

Knowing that Gavin was in his arms, twitching and coming back to life, pushed Ryan into action.  Ray was alive.  Ray was fucking immortal.  Ryan lurched forward and grabbed Ray by his face and dragged him up to a hot and messy kiss to which Ray responded eagerly, pushing himself up into Ryan.

"Not to interrupt this beautiful moment, but we gotta run," Geoff said, lifting up a coughing Gavin.

They grabbed a car and drove off, Ryan sitting in the front, far away from Ray and suddenly super unsure of what to fucking do.  Michael was in the back, pressed up by Gavin who had an arm around Ray, congratulating him on his new immortality.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my life is literal shit right now.
> 
> so the natural conclusion is to write fanfic and postpone responsibility.
> 
> (but I might be dating someone so that's like fucking awesome)

Three days and Ray was losing his goddamn mind.  After that mindblowing kiss, he was convinced that maybe he and Ryan would lose some of that sexual tension but instead Ryan just hid away and Ray didn't have any clue what to do.  The worse thing was that Ryan still sent him random text messages, just like before.  In the past three days he'd gotten a picture of a cat shirt with the question "more or less insane?" and a dozen others of random, trivial matters.

"I mean, what the fuck man?" Ray rolled on his bed, staring over at Gavin.  "I just... you don't kiss someone after a near death experience without meaning something behind it.  Right?"

"It's Ryan, though," Gavin pointed out, flipping a knife in the air.  "He's always been... crazy."

Ray shrugged.  He met Ryan years ago, literally ran into him after a theft and, as cheesy as it sounded, Ray pretty much swooned.  Hard not too, really, when he ran smack into Ryan; a golden god in the Los Santos light who caught him in such strong arms.  Who was also the black masked Vagabond, the grim reaper of the criminal underworld that Ray had (not) secretly worshiped.

Gavin screamed from his bed.  Ray turned and saw the knife embedded in Gavin's chest.  Ray barely swallowed his scream as he ran to Gavin's bed, tripping over the clothes on the floor.  He yanked the knife out, blood spurting from the wound.  For a second, he wanted to scream for Geoff, for Michael, for anyone.

Then Gavin woke up and opened his eyes.

"I am not cleaning the blood," Ray said.

Gavin's newly awakened eyes suddenly brightened.

"Holy shit," he said.  "I have the best idea ever."

 

And so they were in the outskirts of town, with Michael of course, testing out their immortality.  So far, they discovered that Gavin regains life the fastest, dying fucking hurts, and suicide was still a scary thing.

"Dude," Michael said as Ray shook himself back to life.  "It looks like a fucking massacre happened out here."

Ray sat up slowly, rubbing his chest where Gavin had stabbed him fucking sixteen times (he counted) and looked around him.  Sure enough, the ground was covered with blood and organs and bits of bone shrapnel.

"It's weird," Gavin said, walking up to one of his more interesting deaths and kicking at the remnants.  "We're making new bodies when we come back to life and just leaving our leftovers out and about."

"Huh," Ray stood up and dusted himself off.  "Do you think we're gonna grow back limbs?"

Gavin whipped up a machete instantly.  "You offering, X-Ray?"

"God, no," Ray shook his head.  "Just a question."

"Well, I'm offering then," Gavin tossed the machete to Ray and held out his arm.  "Cut my hand off and we'll see if it grows back!"

"Fuck no!" Michael intervened.  "Holy shit, Gav, this isn't something you can just guess with!  What if you actually ended up with only one hand for the rest of you life?  What then?  Because, fucking, that's just stupid."

"C'mon, Michael!" Gavin whined.

"No, he's right," Ray said, tucking away the machete.  "We only come back in one piece after we die."

"So cut my hand off and shoot me," Gavin shrugged.  "Let's just do this!"

"No, no way," Michael snapped.  "Get in the car.  We're going home."

Gavin looked like he was going to protest again, so Ray hushed him and dragged him along.  Michael looked fit to kill - murderous intent bright as day in his eyes.  He looked like he wanted to tear Gavin apart limb from limb if he even dared to not listen.  In fact, Michael had been testy for a while now.  Always on edge, eyes focused on Gavin's reckless behavior.

Ray's phone buzzed.  It was a text from Ryan.

_Where are you and the lads?  I have a heist plan._

Ray scoffed and stuffed his phone into his pocket.  Fuck you very much, Ryan.  Ray didn't fancy his immortality being used in any heists.  In fact, that was the last damn thing he wanted.  Ray needed an adjustment period, so sue him for it.  It wasn't every day one woke up from the dead.  It wasn't every day one spent murdering each other to test aforementioned immortality and fucking Ray deserved a fucking goddamn break.  He pulled his phone and tapped out a quick response.

_fuck off_

He spent the rest of the time waiting for a reply that he didn't notice Michael and Gavin fighting in the front of the car.


	5. Chapter 5

They were gathered together in Geoff's tiny apartment, squashed in the living room.  Ryan gathered up his notes and mused over the heist he had meticulously planned.  He'd been thinking about it pretty much since Gavin's failed attempt at a heist.  They could have done it, Ryan knows that.  This little crew could have pulled off a simple gas station robbery, it was Gavin's poor planning that fucked them over.

So Ryan was going to pick up the pieces and get them good money in the process.  Tension was ridiculously high in the room.  Michael and Gavin weren't talking to each other, but sent stupid longing looks at each other, and Ryan couldn't stand looking at Ray.

"So, if you're all tired of nickle and diming it," Ryan started.  "We're going in for the big guns."

"Quarters?" Michael exclaimed.

"That's right," Ryan nodded.  "We're hitting an armored truck."

Immediately there was a stunned silence over the crowd other than Gavin's giggle.  Ryan avoided looking at Ray, instead focused on Geoff and Jack cuddled in the corner.

"Then we're hitting that fucking gas station that Gavin blew up," Ryan said.  "I have that much faith in you.  Jack, you and Team Nice Dynamite are gonna get a chopper and lift up the armored truck.  That truck is going to be found by me and Geoff.  We'll cruise the city and then push it off the road.  Make sense?  Now, here's the crazy part."

"Because lifting a goddamn armored truck with a cargobob isn't crazy," Jack said.  Ryan glared and Jack grinned.

"Ray," Ryan turned to him, ignoring the way his heart lurched.  "You'll be on top of this parking structure and Jack will fly the truck over you and you will shoot it, thus raining money down on you."

"I can do that," Ray said, deadpan.

Ryan definitely ignored the way his chest caved in at that.  "Nice Dynamite will then come down with me, Geoff and Ray.  Motorcycles await and we jump off the building and into the subway right around the corner."

"Like, sandwich subway?" Ray said, lips quirking into a smile and a giggle bursting out.  "Or..."

Michael turned to him with an incredulous look on his face and Ryan laughed at the stupidity of the joke.  He caught Ray's eye and softened at the look on his face.  Holy shit, Ryan had it so bad.  He turned away and focused back onto the heist.

"Now we split up, again," Ryan said, gesturing to the map.  "Jack, you're gonna be a distraction.  Fly to this location, destroy evidence, and meet up with Ray.  In the meanwhile, Geoff, Michael, Gavin and I will emerge out of the subway in two different locations.  Michael and Gavin will rob the gas station and Geoff and I will get the jetskies on this pier.  We all meet here and sail away."

"On jetskies," Geoff repeated.  "Into the sunset?"

"Yes," Ryan nodded.  "Sometimes Geoff, you have to go for style."

"And here I thought you're were the intelligent one," Geoff sighed.

"So, codenames," Ryan continued.  "I went over the old footage of you, old aliases that aren't in the system anymore.  I'll call them out and you just raise your hand when your name is called.  We have Heisty Beard, Granny Gumjobs, The Wee-Wee Wrangler, Two-Times an Anus, and, fucking, Bongy Wimp Foggler.  Since I'm the leader, I'll be known as The Fry Lord."

"What even is this heist?" Jack said.

"Listen, I'm a mercenary, this is my first heist," Ryan said.  "Honestly, my first thought was to just go crazy and send our three immortals into the fire but I realized it's much more difficult to keep them alive."

"Did you even think this through?" Geoff said.  "Is this going to work?"

"Of course!" Ryan said, offended that Geoff would think so little of him.  He pointed to the map and his notes.  "See?"

"When are we doing this, Rye?" Gavin asked.

"I'll give us a couple of weeks to get the cargobob, scout out the armored truck schedule.  As soon as we have all that, we'll get to heisting."

Ray, all the laughter from early gone from his eyes, gave a solemn nod and stood up.  He spared one glance at Michael before walking out.  Jack said something about getting the chopper and he and Geoff left the room too.  Michael came up to Ryan and looked over the plans.

"Not too bad, Rye-bread," Michael grinned.  "I call dibs on the next heist."

"I look forward to it," Ryan smiled and retreated to the roof.

 

The next few weeks were some of Ryan's worst.  Ray ignored him most of the time and only talked in cold, clipped tones.  Michael seemed to be constantly pissed off at Gavin (who died at least twice a day) and Geoff and Jack did nothing about it.  Jack called in his cargobob, Gavin hacked into the truck system.  Things were running smooth as hell and Ryan felt confident in their abilities to actually complete this heist.

That, probably, is where things went wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically it's supposed to be a convenience store but for sake of continuity in this fic, it's that same gas station.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: fixed a lot of typos. This is why we don't write fics at fucking 4 am

The last thing Geoff heard on his comms was Jack's frantic voice crying out, "Chopper's down!" before flames exploded over the street.  His heart stopped in his chest as they rolled up to the wreckage.  Smoke poured out of the wrecked cargobob as the flames licked the ground.  Sirens wailed in the air as the cops came closer.  Ray was screaming, demanding what had happened.

Geoff rolled out of the car and stumbled up to the wreck, heart in his throat and head spinning.  Jack was in that explosion.  Jack, his partner in all things.  The only man who not only put up with Geoff, but loved and welcomed him in every way.  Geoff knew, somewhere in his mind, that Jack was immortal, that he would come back, but that didn't make it easier to see the mangled, burnt bodies in the twisted wreck of the chopper.

"Geoff!" Ryan shouted, following him.  "We gotta get the fuck outta here!"

"Jack!" Geoff shouted.  "I've got to get him, Ryan."

Already, Gavin was coughing and waking up, rubbing the soot from his hair and frantically looking around.  Gavin's eyes landed on Jack and Michael's bodies and he panicked.

"Michael!  Michael, boi, wake up!" Gavin screamed, crawling over and shaking Michael's shoulders.  He turned to Geoff, tears down his cheeks.  "Geoff, why isn't he waking up?"

Geoff knelt down next to Gavin, hand on his shoulder and squeezed.  "I'm sorry, Gav.  Michael's dead."

"No, no," Gavin shook his head.  "He can't be dead!  It's Michael, it's my boi.  We never fixed our stupid fight."

The sirens got louder and Ryan snapped, "We got to go.  Now."

Ryan bodily carried Gavin to the car, ignoring his screaming cries, and Geoff followed.  He looked down at Jack's broken body, at Michael's bloody face, and forced himself away from the scene.  Something snagged his arm and Geoff stumbled.

"Fuck."

Looking down, it was Michael.  Geoff's stomach lurched at the bloodied hand grabbing his jacket, the sooty skin and smoky hair of Michael Jones, alive and breathing.  Geoff didn't think, just picked up the lad and ran for Ryan's car, leaving behind the man he loved more than anything.

"WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE  _FUCK_ IS GOING ON?!"

 

They picked up Ray and drove out of the city.  They couldn't go back to any of their houses in the city, not after leaving a body behind.  The LSPD might be a bunch of fucking idiots but Jack had fingerprints and he was in their system.  There really was only one place to go.  Naturally, Ryan was pissed.

"Twelve years I've kept this house hidden for you," he snapped as they drove down the dusty highway.  "Twelve fucking years of living in secrecy and this is how it all goes down."

"Dude, it was your fucking heist," Ray said, pushing himself against the passenger door and far away from Ryan.  "You can't bitch about it."

Ryan's house was a little two story country home in the desert.  It was quaint and tastefully decorated, if a little sparse and clinical.  It smelled like mothballs and cheap febreeze and, with stiff shoulders, Ryan gave a brief tour before donning his skull mask back on and heading out claiming to "clean up his own mess" and leaving the crew in his house.  The lads ran up the stairs, Michael stumbling a little, and Geoff was alone downstairs.

He knew that he should have been more panicked about Michael being immortal too but all he could think about was Jack.

He turned on the television to the news station.  Geoff was the slightest bit impressed that the Weasel News made it so quick to the crime scene.  The cargobob was taken away and there was footage of a gurney being lifted up into the ambulance and, even though the footage sucked and the body was covered with a sheet, Geoff knew it was Jack underneath there.

This was very bad.  Their little crew always had contingency plans in case they got got, but they'd never had to worry about waking up in a morgue.  Jack was smart and if Geoff had to pick anyone to wake up in the morgue, it would be Jack.  He would know what to do, how to escape.  But they would need a plan to help him.  Some kind of distraction to get Jack away from the coroner.

If they found him awake in the morgue after finding him dead, there's no telling what would happen to Jack.  Geoff was a lot of things.  He was going to be the leader of the greatest crew Los Santos has ever seen.  He practically raised a runaway British fuck and was in a relationship with the greatest man ever.  Geoff was a planner, a lover, a sharpshooter and brutal with a knife.  He was ambitious with a vision.  Geoff was many fucking things but a coward was not one of them.

If Jack was in trouble then Geoff was going to do whatever the fuck it took to get Jack back.

Ryan came back hours later with blood splattered over him and empty guns.

"Nice place you got here," Geoff said casually.

"It's okay," Ryan shrugged out of his jacket and slid his mask off.  "Cops cleaned the scene up.  Jack's gone.  It looks like he was still dead when they loaded him up.  I... I don't know what you want to do."

"We're breaking him out," Geoff said firmly.  "At least we're helping him break out.  Michael has a heist plan and we can use it as a distraction to break Jack out."

"Good news is that morgues aren't guarded like prisons," Ryan said.  "But we'll have to act soon.  There's the autopsy and collecting of organs and - "

"Gah!  Shut up!" Geoff cut him off.  "I don't want to hear about it.  We'll talk to the lads tomorrow about the heist and breakout."

Ryan nodded and went upstairs, gesturing for Geoff to follow.

 

Jack woke up underneath a white sheet to the smell of sterile bleach.  He was naked and a bright light was above him.  Rustling surrounded him but Jack dared not to move.  He remembered the heist, the chopper crashing down.  The warning systems went haywire and Michael and Gavin were screaming.  Ray, miles away, didn't even know what was happening.

He had died.  All of them had.  At least Gavin would come back, even if Michael wouldn't.  Michael... God.  Jack felt the heat of tears behind his eyes at the idea of Michael dead, of Gavin surviving without him.  Even though they were fighting, everyone knew they were stupid in love.  Same with Ray and Ryan.

If Jack was dead and not in the street or at home, then he was in the morgue.  He was in the worst place in the world he could ever be.  Jack took a deep and soft breath.  He could do this.  He could escape from a morgue while being declared dead.  No problem.

Voices, whispered to his left, got a little louder.

"Jack Shannon Pattillo.  Extensive criminal record, never caught.  Works with five other men in the semblance of a small gang.  Found dead at the scene of the crime.  Initial cause of death, explosion and massive shrapnel damage to torso and head, causing major fractures and lacerations across the body.  Autopsy begins at three in the afternoon by Dr. Caleb Denecour.  Officers Jeremy Dooley and Matt Bragg to witness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes B-Team! I've been really excited for what this and Michael's heist do for the story. Kerry will be in Michael's heist and Jack will be free and, eventually, people will have feelings talks.
> 
> Created a blog as well! Come follow me on Tumblr :D  
> http://gameralexis51.tumblr.com/


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael's heist has a few things different from his canon heist, but I tried hard to keep it true to form.

Michael woke up curled next to Gavin, warm and soft as the sunlight streamed through an open window.  It was quiet on the outskirts of the city and Michael, morning person he was, stretched and sat up, only slightly dislodging Gavin from his shoulder.

Something in his heart warmed and grew at the sight of Gavin with his mussed hair sleeping soundly next to him.  He looked so innocent and calm and Michael could forget about Gavin's immortality and all the somewhat failed heists.

Because they did make some bank.  Couple grand wasn't much, but it was something and Ryan's fucking armor truck heist was fantastic and helped a lot.  Maybe Geoff's penthouse dream wasn't too far off.  Give them a few more heists and time to start a drug ring and yeah, they could be a legit crew in this city.

Gavin stirred next to him, mumbling and reaching out to cling to Michael.  They hadn't done much talking since the heist, since Michael came back from the dead.  Gavin had dragged Michael upstairs and away from Ray's constant pining then kissed the life out of him.

Just remembering it made Michael grin and rest his hand on Gavin's head, thumb rubbing across Gavin's forehead.

"Morning, bud," Michael grinned.

Gavin blearily opened his eyes and smiled up at Michael.  "Mornin' boi."

Then, just because he could, Michael leaned down and kissed him.  It felt just as nice as before, like fitting together the way they were supposed to.  It was soft and safe and Michael would die a hundred times over to stay here.

The door busted open.  Geoff stood there, looking fucking exhausted.  His mustache was drooping and had bags for days under his red-rimmed eyes.

"We need your heist, Michael," Geoff said.  "Jack is in the morgue.  They think he's dead.  We need to bust him out and you said you have a heist ready."

"Uh, yeah?" Michael sat up higher, trying not to dislodge Gavin.  "I mean, I've got to call in a favor and we'll need a sixth man, but yeah, I got a heist."

"Ryan has a guy for us," Geoff waved it off.  "How soon can we go?"

Michael thought for a second.  Lindsay would be easy to grab, she helped with Gavin's heist before.  It was the tank that would be difficult to get in short notice.  But Michael knew a guy who owed him big.

"Tonight?" Michael guessed.  "Let me make some phone calls and we'll go."

 

It was over dinner that Michael brought out his plan.  He smoothed a map out over the table, swallowed his pizza, and lifted up his pen.  Kerry, a merc from Ryan's many histories, was sat at the table, wide-eyed and eager.

"This is for Jack," Michael said.  "We can't let our previous failures keep us down and this is uniquely designed to keep Gavin alive.  Immortal or not, Gavin has died every time.  There's a bank down the street from the morgue and that's our target."

He circled the bank on the map.  "Two teams are targeting the bank.  Myself and Gavin are the ground team, we're getting the money.  Team two is Ray and Ryan, R and R connection, you are going to destroy anyone who tries to stop us.  This should be enough of a distraction for team three.  Geoff, you take Kerry, get a chopper, and get Jack.

Michael took a breath and glanced down the table.  Everyone was on the edge of their seats, the pre-heist anticipation mounting in them.  Michael nodded and marked on the map the paths each team would take.

"The reason it took so long was I called in a favor.  After we rob the bank, Gav and I will be in a tank.  We'll take the tank into the subway, abandon it, then bike to this meeting point.  Ray and Ryan, you two will take the motorcycle, lose the cops, meet us at the meeting point.  Kerry and Geoff, once you have Jack, fly straight up to Vinewood where an unmarked car will be waiting, then meet us at the boat."

Geoff nodded solemnly.  "You heard the man.  Let's get into positions.  Lindsay planted the car and boat then?"

Michael nodded.  "If we want Jack out before the cut him open then we better move."

* * *

Jack held his breath as the three men talked over him.  There were two cops and the doctor.  They sounded like friends and mentioned some private investigator named Trevor.  The sheet above him moved and Jack closed his eyes.

A phone rang and was answered with a quiet swear.  "Trevor, what the fuck man?"

Jack peeked and the sheet was still above his head.  He could make out the shadow of someone over him, hands poised above the sheet.

"What does he want?" a second voice asked.

"I don't know," the first voice said.  "He just wants the three of us in his office now.  He said to fuck Pattillo because he's got information.  Can we do that?"

"He's not going anywhere," the third voice chimed in.  "We'll just stick him back in the freezer and get back to him later.  If what Trevor has to say is important, that important, then yeah, let's go."

The bright light above him turned off and Jack's gurney or whatever the fuck he was on, moved.  He heard clanging metal and was shoved into darkness.  There was a click and Jack threw the sheet off his head.

He'd never been claustrophobic but there was something about being surrounded by walls in pitch black coldness that set him off.  He reached out, touching the walls with his elbows and realized that there were only inches of space around him.

Jack couldn't breathe and couldn't see.  Panic had officially set in and he was so fucking cold.

Geoff would come for him.  Jack held onto that thought.  If nothing else, Geoff would tear apart all of Los Santos to get to Jack.  He'd done it before.  Geoff had torn apart an entire drug ring because they held up Jack for a few hours.

Geoff would come.  Jack breathed, shivered, and waited.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The sun was hot and pounding as Ray ducked around the corner.  The cops were swarming the bank, Michael shouted as he and Gavin drove away in the tank.  Geoff and Kerry had collected Jack and gone suspiciously silent.  Ray only had a few magazines left and he glanced over at Ryan.

As pissed as he was at Ryan, Ray was still stupidly fond of the mercenary.  He still dreamed of their one kiss - of the smoke and thick hands and chapped lips.  But if Ryan was going to ignore him then fuck him.  Two could play at that game.

But everything went wrong when choppers started flying in.

"We're going into the subway!" Michael shouted.  "Geoff, you get Jack?!"

"Um, this is Kerry.  Geoff and Jack are together.  I'm going to land on top of the Maze Bank and we'll meet you at Ryan's cabin."

"R and R," Michael said and Ray perked up.  "Lose the cops.  Get to the house."

Ryan grunted in agreement and stepped out of the alleyway.  Sirens were loud, bullets flying, and Ray had no idea how the fuck he was going to get out of this alive.  At least if he died, Ray would come back but he didn't want to go through the whole morgue thing.  Ray glanced over at Ryan; his shirt was stained red with blood and a bullet wound on his arm was gushing.

So Ray saw the instant Ryan fell over with a stuttered cry, bullets riddled through his chest.  Ray's own chest caved in and something inside him snapped.  Michael screamed over the comms but Ray couldn't hear him.  All he saw was Ryan, motionless and bloody on the ground.

"Ryan!" Ray screamed.  "No!  You bastards!"

He slammed the magazine into his rifle and stepped out of the alleyway, firing madly into the hordes of cops.  This had to have been what Gavin went through when Michael died - what Geoff felt when Jack died.  And fuck it if didn't hurt like hell.

They never talked about it - never finished what Ryan had started.  Ray never got to explain how he swooned the instant he saw Ryan.  Never understood what it was that kept Ryan from opening his heart to anyone.  Ray never imagined he would be the one who could break through Ryan's defenses but he didn't want to be ignored either.

Michael asked, weeks ago, if Ray wanted to be immortal and Ray said it would be lonely.  He fully anticipated the loneliness when he woke up from the gas station explosion, but he never braced himself for the agony of actually watching Ryan die in front of him.

Each bullet felt like a punch to his chest and Ray couldn't breathe.  Blackness came over him and he fell onto his back, knowing that when he woke up, Ryan would be dead.

* * *

Geoff stayed next to Jack as they wandered into Ryan's house.  Jack was white and his skin chilled and his eyes were hollow.  Geoff payed Kerry and sent him off.  He made a mental note to hire Kerry again - kid was levelheaded in the face of danger.

As soon as the door was locked, Geoff grabbed Jack and held him tight.

"Fucking, never again," Geoff said.  "I don't care if you're immortal - I'm not gonna let you go again."

"Geoff, Geoff, listen," Jack whispered, pulling away gently.  "There's a private investigator, his name is Trevor.  He's friends, or something, with two cops and the coroner.  I didn't hear everything, but I think Trevor knows about us, our crew."

"You think we need to take care of him?" Geoff said.

"I think we need to investigate him," Jack said.  "Where's everyone else?"

Geoff shrugged.  "Should be here soon.  Michael robbed a bank."

Jack's eyes went wide and he whistled.  "A bank?  Fucking impressive."

"Penthouse suite isn't too far from here," Geoff grinned.  "We're on our way to being a contender in this city.  I'm gonna talk to Ray about some of his old drug rings, get into that.  Then we can start to get some territories.  I think Little Korea is up for grabs - they'll want protection."

"Geoff," Jack said gently.  "This heist will put us on the map, you know that right?  We're gonna have to put up the front.  You will be a mob boss, Geoff.  There is gonna be a price on your head, on all of us.  Things are going to change.  Are you sure we can handle that?"

"You are immortal," Geoff said.  "You, Gavin, Michael, Ray, with all of you as my crew - nothing will be impossible.  We even have Ryan, our own mad mercenary.  This is what we want, Jack, all we've worked for is leading up here."

Jack nodded.  "Of course, Geoff.  You're right."

The door to the house burst open, Michael and Gavin swarming in with bag after bag of money.  Jack's eyes, if possible, went wider.  The two lads were grinning from ear to ear as they dropped the loot onto the table.

"Gavin did the math," Michael said, unzipping a back and exposing stack after stack of hundreds.  "Says we got a couple mill from the bank.  Which, you know, not much in the long run, but a damn good start."

"God, I love you," Geoff said, reaching out for the money.  "Michael, you beautiful bastard.  Where's R and R?"

At that, Michael and Gavin wilted.  They looked so sad that Geoff dropped the cash, staring at the boys sternly.  They glanced at each other and Gavin took a deep breath.  Michael fidgeted with his jacket and looked down at the table.

"Cops got them," Michael said finally.

"But Ray's immortal," Jack said instantly.

"Both of them," Gavin whispered.

Geoff felt something cold drop in his stomach.

Michael looked up at Geoff, his eyes bright.  "Rye-bread is gone."

* * *

Ray woke up with a gasp.  It was bright and the smell of hot asphalt and coppery blood assaulted his senses.  The comm in his ear was broken and the sound of sirens was far distant.  Groaning, Ray rolled over and saw Ryan's limp body on the ground.

Not thinking, Ray crawled over to Ryan.  The ambulances would be here soon and they needed to get out.  Ray needed to get out.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Ray said, lifting up Ryan's mask and tracing his face.  "I'm sorry I was such a goddamn ass to you.  I just... I hoped and loved and never stopped to see how you felt.  So, goodbye, I guess."

Ray stood up, ignoring the burning of his tears and dusted himself off.  His clothes were torn to shreds and stained with blood.  Geoff was gonna be pissed to hear that Ryan died.

"Always knew you were a sap."

"Fucking, warn a guy!" Ray cried out, turning to see Ryan sitting up and coughing.  "You wake up, immortal, and your first act is to scare me shitless?"

"Like you did any better," Ryan stood up, a little wobbly on his feet.  "You made out with me as your first immortal act."

"Fuck you," Ray said.  "You kissed me first!"

Ryan shrugged, smug grin on his face.  "I guess I did."

Before Ray could come up with a rebuttal, Ryan swooped up to him, hands clasping Ray's cheeks, and kissing him.  Ray's hands went up to Ryan's hips, his eyes shut, and kissed back.  It tasted like blood, smelled like smoke, and was perfect.

"What the fuck?" Ray pulled away.  "I just... you're not a personable person."

"When I died, I thought that was it, the end for me," Ryan said.  "I know that I was going to die like this, guns and glory, but I didn't imagine I'd have so many regrets.  Leaving you high and dry even though I cared about you.  Never opening myself up to the crew - to my friends."

"Well," Ray said slowly.  "Now you have forever to make up for it."

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Michael fucking hated being a lookout.  It would be better if he was with Gavin - then they could fool around in the backseat while staring at this boring-ass building.  Nope, instead he was with Jack.  Which - don't get him wrong - Jack was great, Michael adored him, but it wasn't Gavin.

"You sure this is the place?" Michael asked Jack again.

"Pretty sure," Jack shrugged.  "I mean, he was the only private investigator labeled under Trevor.  So I'm pretty sure it's him."

"Well, he's fucking boring," Michael complained.  "Remind me why we're doing this?"

Jack sighed.  "I'm worried about how much he knows about us.  We're not yet a crew, though we're a lot closer.  With your bank heist, we have enough money to actually start building our own territory."

Oh, right.  Geoff was fairly adamant about building themselves up into an actual, real crew.  He was out with Ryan to offer protection to Little Korea in exchange for money, spies, and supplies.  Gavin and Ray were running across the city to ally themselves with drug rings and arms dealers.  Already, there were whispers of the gang who robbed the Los Santos bank and lived.  If Michael was completely honest with himself, he fucking loved it.  There was a heady power that came with knowing it was their gang turning crew - it was Geoff who was becoming King of the Los Santos Underground.

So yeah, being lookout sucked dick, but if it was what Michael had to do to help build their empire then so be it.

It was such a normal looking building, a little strip mall off the center of town, with nail salons and a laundromat.  If anything, it threw off Michael to anticipate any nefarious plans coming from here - a little office with a white sign and black lettering boasting of Private Investigator Trevor Collins.  Simple, boring, clinical.  Innocuous to the point of anonymity.

"Shouldn't private investigators have a little more pomp than that?" Michael asked, gesturing hopefully to the building.  "It looks  _boring_."

"If he has good business then he doesn't need flash," Jack shrugged.  "And if he's friends with police officers then he definitely has good business."

Michael settled down into his seat, letting out a yawn.  It was hot and stuffy in the car, even with the windows rolled down.  The hot, damp heat of a Los Santos July.  Gavin swore up and down that the heat would break into a massive summer storm, but until then, it was just hot as dicks.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Jack finally said, breaking the sleepy silence.  At Michael's slow eyebrow raise, Jack clarified, "Being immortal, I mean."

"I guess?" Michael shrugged.  "It's kinda weird that all of us are."

"Except Geoff," Jack reminded him.  "I mean, was it was weird for you to come back to life?  I thought, in the morgue, that you actually died and Gavin would have to live forever with your fight.  Same with Ryan and Ray."

Michael caught on and sat up a bit straighter, shaking the warm exhaustion from his head.  "Wh - are you worried about Geoff?  Like living forever without him?"

Jack sighed and turned back to the building.  "Someone's going in."

"Wait, no," Michael said.  "You and Geoff have been friends for freaking ever, fuckbuddies for who knows how long, and you're just gonna brush this off?  I had a fucking immortality and romantic crisis at the same time which is _nothing_ compared to you being immortal and Geoff being mortal.  Like, you can't fucking expect that living forever, watching Geoff grow old and die, isn't going to make you crazy."

"I know!" Jack snapped, slamming his fists against the steering wheel.  "Fuck, Michael.  I know.  Don't you think I think about it every fucking day?  Every time we've gone out for a heist I wondered if this was the time that Geoff was going to die and, shit, I can't live with that."

"Maybe he'll be immortal too," Michael said.

"Yeah," Jack rolled his eyes.  "Six outta six.  Don't let Ryan or Gavin hear that or we'll have another fucking coin argument.  So we gonna check this guy out?"

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed.  "Fine.  Let's do it."

* * *

Ray sighed again as Gavin stared dreamily out the window.  They had run across the city, making small alliances with Ray's former drug rings.  It seemed like everyone was interested in being on the right side of the crew who robbed the Los Santos bank and lived.

It actually went by so quickly that they were first back to Ryan's little house.  Geoff and Ryan were still out in Little Korea and there was no knowing how long Michael and Jack would be scouting out Trevor.  Which left a forlorn Ray staring at his phone while a lovesick Gavin stared out the window to the city.

"Oh, my god," Ray finally snapped.  "Fucking stop moping around!"

"Wh-what?" Gavin snapped away from the window.

"You're just sitting there, staring dreamily out the window and it's fucking driving me nuts!"

"I miss Michael," Gavin said.

"No shit," Ray deadpanned.

Gavin let out a dramatic huff and turned back to the window.  Ray rolled his eyes and retreated further into the house.  He went upstairs to Ryan's bedroom, expertly unlocking the door.

For some reason, he expected Ryan's room to be as dark and mysterious as the man himself.  Instead, it was ridiculously normal looking.  A large bed was pushed up against a wall with a side table, complete with lamp and book.  There was a small television on the opposite wall beside a door to the walk-in closet.

Ray closed the door behind him and curled up in the center of Ryan's bed.  He took a deep breath and could smell Ryan on the blankets - his soap and aftershave.  Smiling to himself, Ray pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Ryan.

 _I'm totally stealing your bed_.

It took mere minutes for Ray to fall asleep, hand clutched around his phone and wrapped up in Ryan's blankets.

 

Ray woke up to the feeling of arms wrapping tight around his middle.  It was dark outside and his glasses were off his face.  Groggy and disoriented, Ray shifted around until the arms grabbed him tighter.

"Ryan?" he mumbled, turning his head slightly.

"Shhh," Ryan hummed, nestling his face into Ray's neck.

Ray tried not to grin too much at the sight of Ryan, the great Vagabond, nuzzling up to Ray like a kitten, no sign of face paint or mask.  Sure, Ray may have swooned hard and fast for the mysterious, mask wearing, grim reaper of the city, but he loved this gentle, nerdy, soft side of Ryan just as much.

Shifting in the bed, Ray turned around so he was facing Ryan.  His hands went up and cupped Ryan's cheeks.  Ryan blearily opened his eyes, bright blue even in the dim moonlight.  Ray grinned and pulled in Ryan for a kiss.

"How were negotiations?" he asked.

Ryan hummed and pulled Ray closer.  "Good.  I think we're on our way to being a crew in this city."

"Fucking finally," Ray said.

Ryan closed his eyes and tugged Ray somewhat impossibly closer.  It was warm and cozy and Ray let himself fall back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Tumblr! Accepting requests and so forth :)
> 
> http://gameralexis51.tumblr.com/


	10. Chapter 10

Months passed and Geoff felt his power grow every day.  The city of Los Santos was going to become his.  Already territories were falling underneath his rule and criminals were coming to him for work.  He finally bought that goddamn penthouse suite, a personal garage for the growing arsenal of cars, and an entire armory's worth of weapons.  Geoff had to start giving his crew specific desk jobs to keep their empire growing, which lead to him buying a little office space in the center of town.

Jack became an overnight secretary.  He kept track of their territories, of where their drugs were going, and who they were buying from.  All those little paperwork things that Geoff hated, Jack took over quickly and efficiently.  He got his own desk space in the back of the office and every time Geoff saw him working hard, sorting out papers, making phone calls, Geoff wanted to bend him over the desk.

Maybe he should set up some rules about fucking in the office.

Gavin became the new face of the crew.  He was friendly, threatening, and utterly brilliant.  He had a tiny desk in the front of the office and herded hopeful criminals to Geoff after an intense screening process.  It was Gavin's job to go out and keep their dealers happy, collect from those they employed, and make deals with others.

Between Gavin and Ray (his favorite partner for those types of excursions) Geoff collected a long list of new employees and the best weapons Los Santos black market had to offer.  They became his boys, the face of the Fake AH Crew and Geoff couldn't be prouder.

Michael and Ryan weren't made for desk work or paper work or anything that involved sitting still for longer than ten fucking minutes.  They became Geoff's guard dogs.  Two former mercs, tough as nails and strong as a fucking freight train, they were perfect for anything that involved threatening people into submission.

With so much going on at once, Geoff had to get more people in his crew.  A little collection of minor criminals to help his crew run better.  He recruited Kerry and Lindsay, they already proved their loyalty to the crew.  Then along came Steffie, one of the best hackers in Los Santos, and Kdin, a man who could infiltrate any police building in the state.

As the summer faded to fall which faded into winter, Geoff saw his crew fit into their roles seamlessly.  Gavin would distract rich marks while Ray broke into their houses.  Jack came up with a long list of qualifications to join the crew while keeping their ever expanding territory under control.  Michael and Ryan built up a huge arsenal of weapons.

And Geoff became King Ramsey of Los Santos.

* * *

It was looking to be a wet and rainy winter week.  Geoff stood in his suite, glass of whiskey in hand, looking out the massive window and over his kingdom.  The Vinewood sign was fuzzy in the distance through the haze of a downpour.  The lights in the city flickered in the night rain.

Ray came down the stairs, sopping wet and dripping water onto the carpet.

"Nope," Geoff said as Ray moved towards the hallway.  "You are not dripping water through the apartment.  Take your clothes off in the kitchen."

"Ugh," Ray groaned.  "Fine, _D_ _ad_."

Geoff grinned and watched Ray in the reflection of the window.  Like a petulant teenager, Ray tore off his sweater and jeans, dropping them in a wet heap onto the ground.  In his boxers and a slightly damp t-shirt, Ray stomped off down the hallway, flipping Geoff off.

Next came Ryan down the stairs, also sopping wet and paint smearing down his face and looking smug as fuck.

"Oh, you fucking didn't," Geoff turned around.

"Ray's idea," Ryan shrugged.  "Something about lighting turns him on."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ryan," Geoff said.  "I'd say something about you two falling off the roof, but, you know, immortality.  Also, take your fucking clothes off."

"Geoff, please," Ray peaked out of the hallway.  "He's my immortal boyfriend, not yours.  Ryan, take off your fucking clothes."

Ryan smirked a little and stripped his clothes off with little to no shame and, to be honest, Geoff couldn't blame him.  Ryan had the broad shoulders and muscular physique of a man who murdered for money and he was pretty fucking gorgeous.

"Geoff, seriously!" Ray stomped forward as Ryan hooked his thumbs into his boxers.  "What would Jack say?"

Geoff couldn't stop the snort as Ray dragged Ryan away, glaring daggers at Geoff.  It was just too easy to tease them.  Jack opened the door and came up to Geoff, giving him a quick kiss.

"How was work, sweetie?" Jack asked, taking a sip of Geoff's whiskey.

"You know, tortured a guy, pushed some drugs, scared the piss out of a traitor, the usual," Geoff shrugged.  "Where's Nice Dynamite?"

"I think they're out racing," Jack said.  "Probably not coming home tonight."

"I was thinking," Geoff said, turning around and facing Jack fully.  "We should heist again.  It's been months since Michael's heist and if we don't keep up appearances, we'll lose the small hold we have over the city."

"Well, dear," Jack said.  "I happen to have a heist planned out.  Besides, it'd be good for the lads to get out of the suite, they're getting a little stir crazy."

"Some good old fashion chaos," Geoff grinned, downing the rest of his whiskey and dropping the glass.  He reached his arms around Jack and rested his hands on Jack's love-handles.  "I love you."

Something went soft and tender in Jack's eyes and he cupped Geoff's face, bringing them together for a kiss.  Geoff sighed and sank into it, tugging Jack a little closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack's heist is next! Action, explosions, and heartbreak all rolled into one! And if that wasn't enough, Jeremy, Matt and Trevor get wrapped up into it as well.
> 
> http://gameralexis51.tumblr.com  
> (feel free to follow!)


	11. Chapter 11

Standing in the new penthouse suite, Jack gathered the crew.  It had been a while since the six of them had been in one room at the same time, too busy with building up their empire.  Jack didn't realize how much he'd missed the six of them being together - it had been months since Michael's heist and Jack was excited to be out heisting again.

"Welcome back, boys," Jack grinned.  "It's heist time."

Five targets, one jet landing, and a lot of money.  Jack's fingers started twitching with anticipation.  It had been a long time since they've been together and heisted and Jack couldn't wait.  Everything was already put into place.

Gavin was twitching in his seat, hand clasped tight with Michael's, who was grinning like a maniac.  Ray was nestled up in Ryan's lap, looking smug and cozy with Ryan's arms tight around him.  Geoff was sitting in the front, looking up at Jack with bright, adoring eyes.

"The LSPD know about us already," Jack said.  "This is just gonna put a bigger target on our back.  This is gonna prove to our new allies, to our empire, that we are here for keeps.  We are the Fake AH Crew and no on is gonna stop us."

"Fuck yes!" Geoff cheered, standing up and grabbing Jack's cheeks, kissing him soundly.

"Gross," Ray groaned, tucking his face into Ryan's neck.

"Oh, shut up," Geoff said, turning to face Ray.  "I had to deal with you and Ryan fucking on the roof, this is nothing."

"Whatever, let's go," Ray pried himself out of Ryan and walked towards the door, Ryan following like a puppy.  Michael and Gavin hopped after them, talking excitedly about what weapons to bring.

Geoff turned to follow but Jack grabbed his arm, pulling him aside.  "Geoff, promise me you'll be careful."

"Of course I will," Geoff grinned.

"I'm serious," Jack insisted.  "If you get shot, you'll die.  You get that, right?  We're immortal but you're not.  You have to be careful, don't die on me, okay?"

"Oh, you're... you're serious about this, aren't you?" Geoff said.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed.  "I'm immortal now, Geoff.  I'm gonna live forever.  Do you really think I can live forever without you?  Especially if you die in this heist?  Or any heist?  I don't know how I could live with that."

Geoff reached up and cradled Jack's cheek in his hand.  "This is what we do, Jack.  I'm gonna get shot at.  I'm probably going to die out there, heisting, causing chaos, it's what I'm gonna do.  That's just what we do, okay?  But I'll try for you, fucker."

"Don't be a piece of shit," Jack laughed, kissing Geoff.  "Let's go before the kids break something."

* * *

Matt and Jeremy walked to the liquor store, collars up against the rainfall.  Trevor sent them out for a booze run before they could start reading up on the new crew that rose in Los Santos.  Jeremy still couldn't quite believe that motherfucking Jack Pattillo rose from the dead.

"This sucks," Matt groaned, picking up a case of beer.  "What kind of shit luck does this city have that a criminal crew with immortals?"

"We don't know that anyone else is immortal," Jeremy pointed out.  "It could just be Pattillo."

"That footage though," Matt said.  "Some of the things that these boys have walked away from are pretty fucking impossible."

"We'll go over it again tonight," Jeremy shrugged.  "Treyco has the stuff, Caleb said he'd meet us with Pattillo's medical file.  We'll get this sorted out, dude."

Matt dropped the case of beer on the counter and Jeremy set a bottle of whiskey next to it.  Jeremy pulled out his phone, checking for any messaged from Trevor.  The door dinged and hell broke lose.

"This is a robbery!" a man in a black suit shouted.  "Money in the bag!  Faster, faster, faster!"

Naturally, one of the few times that Jeremy and Matt were out of uniform is the time they get caught up in a robbery.  But Jeremy didn't go anywhere without a weapon on his person.  Jeremy raised up his arms and moved to the side, nodding at the cashier to do what the thief wanted.

"You're gonna be cool as a cucumber, just give me what I want," the man said, his gun pointed at the cashier.

He scooped up the bag of money and backed away towards the door, talking to himself - something about keeping them alive.  The man turned around and Jeremy didn't hesitate.  Gun drawn and bullet fired and the man collapsed.

* * *

"I'm keeping mine alive."

Then a gunshot and a yelp.

Jack's stomach dropped and his heart lurched in his chest.

"Did the clerk pull a gun on him?!" Ray shouted.  "What the fuck?!"

Michael shouted something and Ryan yelled back and there was chaos over the comms but Jack was gone.  Geoff got shot.  Geoff was  _dead_.  The jet lurched underneath him as he jerked on the throttle.

"Jack?" Gavin said in a small, sad voice.  Immediately the chatter on the comms stopped.  "Are you okay?"

Jack felt an unexpected surge of fury rise in him.  He wanted to shout to the ends of the world, wanted to take his jet and crash it into the Maze Bank - to cause some chaos and destroy this fucking city.  Someone fucking shot Geoff and Jack wanted revenge.

"Forget the plan, boys," Jack said, his voice flat and angry.  "We need to get Geoff's body."

* * *

Jeremy knelt down beside the body while Matt talked to the cashier.  Matt had that effect on people, tall and lanky and hardly threatening, as oppose to Jeremy, thick shouldered and broad chested.  The shot was clean through the torso, blood pooling beneath the body, half in and half out the door.

He pulled off the helmet and practically screamed.

"Oh my fucking god, Matt!" Jeremy said.  "Holy shit, man, holy fucking shit."

Instantly, Matt was next to him, a hand resting on his shoulder.  "Is that who I think it is?"

Jeremy nodded, too surprised to speak.

"You shot Geoff Ramsey," Matt whispered.  "Holy fuck, dude."

"I know," Jeremy said.  "We gotta - fucking - we gotta go to Trevor."

"They're gonna be after us," Matt said.  "The whole fucking crew is gonna kill us when they find out we killed Geoff Ramsey."

"That's why we got to get to Treyco," Jeremy insisted.  "We're LSPD, he's not.  He can help us with this."

"Or we could actually take it to the precinct," Matt said.

"You know that's not really an option," Jeremy rolled his eyes.  "They hate us there, why do you think we've been stuck in traffic since we left basic?  Trust me, Matt.  We take this to the captain and he'll pin something on us, make it sound like we shot him in cold blood."

"You make it sound like the Captain's working for Ramsey," Matt said.

"I fucking doubt that," Jeremy said.  "But this is a crooked city.  The difference between the cops and the criminals is how they get what they want.  Anyone with morals doesn't make it in this city, Matt."

"Then what are we doing?" Matt asked.  "What's the point of us being fucking cops if we can't fix this city?  That's what we wanted to do, isn't it?"

"I don't know, Matt," Jeremy sighed.

A car squealed down the road, splashing water up over the sidewalk.  Jeremy looked up and saw a black Roosevelt in the street, a green logo plastered on the door.  Hanging on the door was a man in a skull mask, rifle in hand pointing right at Jeremy.

"Don't shoot them yet," someone said from inside the car.  "Toss them into the car.  Grab Geoff's body.  We'll deal with them at the suite."

The man in the mask groaned audibly.  "But Jack!"

The door opened and Jack Pattillo came out.  "They killed Geoff.  I'm going to make them suffer for it."

The masked man jumped off the car and slammed his gun into Jeremy's head.

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Geoff's body was laid down on the kitchen table.  Gavin retched and escaped to the bathroom and Ray followed him.  Ryan stared down at Geoff's body, pale, splattered with dried blood, and limp on the table.  Jack hadn't said anything since they came back to the suite.  Michael dragged the two cops into a spare bedroom, face pinched off in anger.  Jack was Geoff's lover, boyfriend, partner in all things, but Michael was Geoff's most loyal lad.  During their rise to power, Ryan watched Michael threaten anyone who dared to look at Geoff sideways.

It was almost surreal to see Geoff motionless.  He was always bouncing across the penthouse, phone in hand and plans in head.  Ryan felt a sudden pang of sadness.  This crew was the first group of people he ever cared about and he'd grown used to the idea of them being immortal, always being there, always being alive.  Geoff, their leader in everything, was not supposed to die but it never occurred to Ryan that Geoff wasn't immortal.

"It's fucking bullshit," Jack finally said.  His voice was hoarse and deep and even Ryan felt the menace in it.  "I told him to be fucking careful and what does he do?  Bastard gets himself fucking killed.  It's such bullshit.  It just isn't fair!" Jack slammed his fists against the table.  "Why me, Ryan?  Why the fuck did this happen to me?  You and Ray are both immortal, so is Michael and Gavin.  Why the hell isn't Geoff one too?!  Why did this have to happen to me?!  It's not fucking  _FAIR_!"

"Of course it isn't," Ryan said.  "Nothing in this business is fair."

"I'm gonna tear apart those cops, limb from fucking limb!" Jack roared, standing up and making his way to the spare room.

"No!" Ryan jumped up, blocking Jack's path to the room.  "It's too soon!  They'll still be unconscious and we should move them to the warehouse before torturing.  Especially if they have any information about crooked cops."

Jack grabbed Ryan's shoulders.  Up this close, Ryan could see the fury that boiled in Jack's eyes.  The anguish and pain and that look was what Ryan had been avoiding as a mercenary.  Jack was dying inside and Ryan could see it.  He could feel the anger radiating across Jack and so Ryan broke his last barrier.  He opened his arms and engulfed Jack into a hug.  The beard tickled his neck and Ryan didn't let go.

There was stiff resistance from Jack for a second.  Then there was a soft gasp, a shiver, and Jack practically collapsed into Ryan.  Then came the tears, hot and fast as Jack shook with tears.  He clung to Ryan like a lifeline.  Ryan did not plan this far ahead and had no idea what to do.  He settled for awkwardly patting Jack on the back, letting him cry it out.  Eventually the lads emerged from the hallway, each with the same sad, grim faces.  They walked up to Jack and Ryan and put their arms around them both.

"It's just not fucking fair," Jack sobbed as they held onto him.

"I'm so sorry, Jack," Gavin said as they fell to the floor, a clinging crying heap.  "You're right.  It isn't bloody fair."

* * *

Michael was fuming.  He was pissed to hell and back that these two cops (two fucking traffic cops) got Geoff.  Geoff, the father he never had, the man who gave Michael a home, a family.  They would pay for it.  He wasn't compromised like Jack, wasn't a broken, sobbing mess, but he was filled with fury and he was going to unleash it on these cops.

"Don't kill them," Jack said from where he was on the couch, wrapped up in blankets and sat between Ray and Ryan.  "Leave something for me."

"Just for you, Jack," Michael said with a nod.  He stopped to kiss Gavin on his way into the spare room, only to be tugged back by Gavin himself.  Gavin looked utterly morose, big green eyes damp with tears.

"Do you have to do it now?" Gavin asked, his hand sliding into Michael's.  "Jack needs you.  I need you.  Geoff is... Geoff is dead and we need to stay together."

"We're together for fucking ever," Michael said, his fingers tightening in Gavin's.  "All of us, immortal.  We could jump off this building, fucking crash our chopper or get shot by cops and  _live_.  We need to do something for Geoff, something to remember him by.  This is what I can do so I'm gonna fucking do it."

Gavin took a deep breath and nodded, closing his eyes.  "Okay, you're right.  I should go call the B-Team, let them know.  Start planning the funeral."

"Yeah," Michael said softly.  "Shouldn't let anyone else know though.  If people find out that Geoff is dead then we'll lose power."

"Absolutely," Gavin opened his eyes.  They were clear and determined.  "We'll get through this, right boi?"

Michael smiled fondly.  "Yeah, boi.  We got this."

Gavin kissed him again and walked down the hallway, pulling his phone out as he went.  Michael looked over to the living room where some movie was playing.  He looked at the top of Jack's head, Ryan's and Ray's.  He turned to look at the kitchen, at Geoff's still body, pale and  _dead_.

The fury rose back up and Michael slammed the door open.  The cops in the room were awake and jumped at the noise.  One was tall and skinny.  He had glasses and looked skittish, eyes darting around the room.  The other was shorter, broader, and had some kind of steely determination in his gaze.

More than that, these were the two cops that were buddy-buddy with Trevor Collins, the fucking Private Investigator who was looking into their crew.

"It's like fate, isn't it?" Michael said, shutting the door behind him.  He walked slowly to the table of knives, carefully picking up his favorite.  "The two cops who are suspicious of our crew fall right into our lap."

"Oh shut up and do it," the shorter one said.  "You want information so start the torture."

Michael laughed and tossed his knife into the air.  "I don't want information.  I want your screams."

* * *

He was on something hard and cold.  It was uncomfortable and his fingers were numb.  It hurt to breathe and his heart was sluggish in his chest.  His limbs felt heavy, like they were filled with lead.  A shiver went down his spine and he blinked his eyes open.

The light was harsh and blinding and he closed his eyes again.  But he had to know where he was, what time it was.  He'd been asleep, floating in darkness for too long, and it was time to wake up.

Forcing his eyes open, he turned his head to the side, neck muscles aching in protest.  He was home, in the kitchen of his penthouse suite.  He was laying on something sticky and let out a soft moan.

"Fucking hell."

There was an immediate rustle to his right and no less than three different screams of his name.  He turned his head slowly and saw blurry figures standing at the edge of the kitchen.  He blinked and the figures came into focus.  Jack with a blanket around his shoulders.  Ryan with an arm around Ray.

He forced himself up on the table, ignoring the sticky feeling of blood against his back and the protesting aches in his arms.  He swung his legs over the edge and let out a breath.

"What the fuck happened?"

His words broke the silence and Jack moved.  He engulfed Geoff with the blanket and pulled Geoff in as close and tight as possible.

"You motherfucker!" Jack hissed, voice tight.  "We thought you were dead!  Dammit, you  _were_ dead!  You've been dead for goddamn hours."

"What?" Geoff pulled away from Jack.  He reached up and ran his fingers down Jack's cheeks, tracing the tear tracts there.  "I just remember going into the liquor store.  What happened?"

Jack swallowed.  "You got shot.  Cops in the store pulled a gun on you.  Got you as you left.  That was hours ago.  We thought that you might have been immortal too, but you never came back.  Just laid on the table, dead and still and I just told you to stay alive and - "

Geoff pulled Jack in and kissed him.  He kissed Jack slow and deep until Jack let out a small whine, turning his head to the side and pushing into Geoff harder with desperate abandon.

"You died," Jack said between kisses, hot and heavy into Geoff's mouth.

"But I came back, baby," Geoff grinned, wiping the tears from Jack's cheek.  "And I'll always come back."

Geoff was thinking about taking Jack to their bedroom, enjoy some resurrected sex, when a huge scream echoed in the suite.  Jack jumped and turned around as Geoff leaped off the table.  Ray and Ryan both looked startled and Gavin came running out the hallway.

"I've got all the information settled," he said, sliding his phone into his pocket.  "Lindsay says she'll handle it and..." Gavin's eyes settled on Geoff, widening and immediately filling with tears.  "Geoffrey!  Oh, god, you're alive!"

And because it was Gavin, Geoff opened his arms and was prepared for Gavin jumping into them, clinging to Geoff like a goddamn octopus.  Geoff smiled fondly and hugged Gavin, rubbing his back and patting his head.

Another scream echoed through the suite.  Geoff looked at Ryan, the usual torturer in their crew.

"Where the fuck is Michael?"

Ryan opened his mouth, closed it, and sighed.

"It's complicated."

* * *

Jeremy knew that Matt was important to him.  They'd been together since the academy and had been partners on the force for nearly two years now.  They were friends outside of work, spending time playing video games and watching movies.  Matt was, in every way, Jeremy's best friend.

Seeing him being cut to pieces at the hands of the Fake AH Crew was torture of its own and Jeremy screamed with every wince Matt gave.

"Leave him the fuck alone!" Jeremy shouted, pulling at the ropes tying him to the chair.  "You piece of shit!  I'm the one who shot Ramsey!  Fucking come at me, you bitch!"

The man turned to face Jeremy slowly.  "You really have a hard on for this guy, don't you?"

Jeremy bristled, ignoring the blush on his face.  "He's my partner.  I've known him for years.  Leave him alone."

"Nah," the man shrugged, twisting his knife in the air and slamming it into Matt's thigh.

Matt screamed.  Jeremy screamed.  The door opened.

The man did a double take at the door, his face going white as a sheet.  Jeremy didn't care who was at the door, it could have been the fucking president but Jeremy didn't care.  His entire focus was on Matt, limp and bleeding across from him and Jeremy couldn't do anything.  He tugged the ropes again, feeling the fibers dig into his skin.

"Oh, god, Geoff?" the man whispered.

Jeremy turned at that and, sure enough, Geoff Ramsey was standing in the doorway, alive and whole with no sign of the bullet wound Jeremy left there.

"Hey, Michael," Geoff said, his face soft.  "Are these the cops who shot me?"

"Holy shit, you're alive," Michael said.  "You're one of us!  Oh, my god."

"Michael, listen," Geoff said.  "I need you to take Ryan and go grab Trevor Collins and Caleb Denecour.  Bring them back here, okay?"

Michael nodded and Jeremy felt ice down his back.  Geoff shut the door behind Michael and turned to face his prisoners.  Jeremy had heard the whispers, the rumors that surrounded Geoff Ramsey, up and coming criminal king of Los Santos.  Legends build quick in this city and Geoff was one of the biggest.

His eyes were bright like ice and he glared at Jeremy and Matt.  More than the glare, Geoff carried himself with confidence.  This was a man in charge, never one to be crossed, and Jeremy felt immensely intimidated.

"So, you're the boys who killed me," Geoff said, pulling up a chair and straddling it.

"That was me," Jeremy said immediately.  "Whatever you have planned, leave my partner out of it."

Geoff raised one eyebrow and Jeremy swallowed thickly.

"We know that you two were the witnesses for Jack's autopsy," Geoff said.  "We also know that you're friends with a private investigator by the name of Trevor Collins, visited him a lot in fact.  Though we don't know the nature of these conversations, we have our suspicions.  So, boys, I have a proposition for you."

Jeremy glanced over at Matt.  His face was bruised and bloody and he gave a nod.  Take the deal.

"What's the deal?" Jeremy asked.

"I need some men on the inside," Geoff said.  "And an underground doctor and another front man.  You and your buddies fit the bill pretty well.  So in exchange for not killing you, you two can be my dirty cops.  How does that sound?"

"Why us?" Jeremy asked.  "What makes you think you can trust us?"

"Quick trigger finger," Geoff said.  "Quick and accurate, getting me as I was leaving the store.  Not to mention you didn't call the shot in.  My crew got to my body, collected you two, with no sign of cops anywhere.  Not exactly police protocol, is it?  So tell me, Officer Bragg and Dooley.  Why didn't you call this in?"

"Don't trust the precinct," Matt mumbled, blood spilling down his chin.  "With enough money, cops ignore most criminal deaths.  It's why we work with Trevor, try to make something good in this city.  Killing someone like you?  There are other criminals in the city, other men who want your death on their bounty board."

"That's why I need you," Geoff said.  "I want to rule this city, I want to be King, I'm not gonna lie, but I plan to be a benevolent king.  Little Seoul is under my protection and it's thriving.  So I need you to be on my side, help me protect this city.  What do you think?"

"I..." Jeremy hesitated.

"Think on it," Geoff said, standing up and sliding the chair to the side.  "We'll have your friends over tomorrow.  Decide then."  Geoff pulled out a knife and cut the ropes tying them to the chairs.  "Don't think about escaping, though.  We're immortals; we'll find you."

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real chapter this time! To all who read my now deleted author's note - thanks for your patience and continued support. I know it's just fanfiction and I'm just a name on a website, but I do sincerely appreciate each and every one of you who reads/comments/kudos. Thank you.

Jeremy spent his entire high school and adult life ignoring the judgmental looks from others when he said he was going to join the LSPD.  His mom demanded he join a less dangerous police department, like Los Angelos or New York.  But Jeremy knew where he was needed and that was in Los Santos.

So weeks after his graduation he flew from Boston to Los Santos to become a police officer.

Jeremy was no idiot, he knew about the legend of Los Santos, the city filled with more criminals than civilians.  After San Andreas blew itself out, destroyed from the inside out, mob bosses and petty thieves and mercs for hire moved to Los Santos in droves.  He heard about the too-small police force and the military base.  Jeremy was only one man but he was a man with a mission and that mission was to save Los Santos.

When he landed in Los Santos the first thing Jeremy noticed was the hot, humid air.  It took him several deep breaths to get used to the feeling of breathing moist air and feeling the hot sun.  The second thing he saw was a high speed car chase, sirens wailing and guns firing.

Something boiled inside of Jeremy at the sight of the car chase.  It was part adrenaline and part anticipation.  That is what Jeremy wanted to do, that is what he planned to do ever since his accident.

Following the instructions on his phone, Jeremy made his way to the LSPD headquarters, prepared to really start his training.

That is where he met Matt Bragg.

He stuck out like a sore thumb.  Next to all these big, broad and muscular men, at the peak of their physical condition, Matt looked thin and scrawny, all bone and sinew instead of muscle.  And, like Jeremy, he was from the mainland - South Carolina.

"What brings you here?" Jeremy asked.

Matt shrugged, a delicate move of his shoulders.  "Wanted to be a tech guy.  I'm tough enough, just more of a computer guy than a punching guy."

Jeremy laughed at that.  "Okay Bragg.  I'll help you get through basic and you help me with any computer problems, sound good?"

"Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Dooley," Matt smiled.

* * *

Jeremy's eyes felt swollen and itchy and he knew there were tear tracts down his cheeks.  Matt's face was bloody and bruised and Jeremy felt his heart lurch with every wince that passed Matt's face.

"You okay?" Jeremy asked softly.

"You should see the other guy," Matt mumbled.

"I did," Jeremy laughed breathlessly.  "I saw him beat the shit out of you.  I saw his boss fucking come back to life and tell me that Trevor and Caleb are on their list.  Dude.  We're so fucked."

"But he won't kill us," Matt said, blood dribbled down his chin and he wiped it away.  "We just have to do what he says."

"Yeah," Jeremy rolled his eyes.  "You make it sound so easy."

"You're the one who brought up the fact that the entire precinct is out to get us!"

"I never said that," Jeremy said.  "I think the Captain is working for a different boss, same with most of the other cops.  Bosses who want to rule with an iron fist and won't have anything to do with alliances.  But Ramsey..."

"He's got a few other crews working with him," Matt nodded.  "Fakehaus, ScrewFakes, a few others.  He said he wants to be king."

"And kings make alliances."

Jeremy sighed and slouched deeper in his chair and let out a sigh.  "So we do it then?  We become Ramsey's dirty cops?"

"Better him than Edgar," Matt said.  "Especially if he has Trevor and Caleb."

Jeremy groaned and stood up to kneel beside Matt.  He reached out and gently touched the bruises on Matt's face.  "He really did a number on you.  Broke anything?"

"Nah," Matt shook his head.  Jeremy took his shirt off and wiped the blood from Matt's face.  "Stab's gonna need stitches."

"Caleb will fix you up tomorrow," Jeremy said.  He tore his shirt into strips and gingerly gripped the knife handle.  He took Matt's hand in his own and tore the knife out.  Matt didn't scream but he did squeeze Jeremy's hand and gave a small shout.  Jeremy wrapped the strips of his shirt around the wound.

"Handled it well," Jeremy complimented him, standing up.

"Shut up," Matt gasped, his grip on Jeremy's hand tightening.

"You're my best friend," Jeremy smirked.  "It comes with the package."

"I thought Trevor was your best friend," Matt said.

"Nah," Jeremy grinned, something warm bursting in his chest at the sight of Matt grinning up at him, their hands wrapped together.

"Well, don't let him hear that," Matt said with a soft groan.  "I think he likes being your best friend."

Matt's eyes slipped shut and he sighed.  Jeremy lifted him up and gently put him on the bed in the room, paying special attention to Matt's leg, lifting it above his head with a pillow.  He put a blanket over Matt and sat down beside the bed.

"Best friend," Jeremy sighed, reaching out and taking Matt's hand in his.  "More than friends, but hey, who's keeping score?"

Jeremy gently pressed his lips to Matt's hand.  Tomorrow they would have to face Geoff Ramsey and his crew of immortal criminals.  Tomorrow they would join that crew with Trevor and Caleb.  Tomorrow would be another big step for the fast growing Fake AH Crew.  Tomorrow would test every bit of Jeremy's morals - everything he ever stood for.

But for today, for tonight, he was gonna sit beside Matt's bed, gently holding his hand and not caring about the morning.

* * *

When Jeremy was fourteen he broke his leg.  It was a gymnastics tournament and Jeremy was a shoe in for gold.  He was supposed to win all of his events.  He'd been practicing for months, training for years.  Gymnastics were in Jeremy's blood - it was all he lived for.

He was running down the mat, taking the jump and flipping in the air.  He saw the ground rush towards him too quickly - he wasn't in the proper position.  He tried, oh god how he tried.  Jeremy twisted his body, desperate to hit the ground properly.

He hit the ground wrong, felt his leg bend the wrong direction, all his weight on that leg.  His leg snapped.  Jeremy screamed until he passed out.

When he woke up in the hospital, he knew his future was gone.  A broken leg was going to kill his gymnastics career.  His faint Olympic dream was shattered.  The plan to compete and teach were gone.

Jeremy spent the next weeks in the hospital going between crippling depression and marathoning Cops on television.  Somewhere, somehow in all of that, Jeremy came to a conclusion: he was going to be a cop.  He was going to take everything he learned in his years of gymnastics and put it to good use.

* * *

Jeremy woke up groggy and with a crick in his neck.  He had slept in the chair at an awkward angle and someone was banging on the door.  He gingerly rubbed his eyes and nudged Matt.  It was time to face the music.

Matt blinked his eyes open and looked up at Jeremy, eyes slightly glazed over and a silly grin on his face.

"God, I hurt like hell," Matt said.

Jeremy couldn't stop the soft smile on his face.  "Yeah, I bet you do."

Matt's grin went cheeky and he tugged on Jeremy's hand.  "Kiss it better?"

"Dude, did Ramsey's grunt actually give you a concussion?" Jeremy laughed.  "Because that's kinda impressive if he did."

"Shut up and kiss me, you idiot," Matt said.  "If we're really doing this, joining this clusterfuck of a crew, then I'm gonna do it with no regrets."

Jeremy's chest grew warm and he leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Matt's lips.

"There," he whispered.  "No regrets.  You and me with the fucking Fake AH."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not dead! This fic isn't dead either - just been busy :D

Gavin couldn't stop staring at Geoff.  It was surreal to see him up and walking when only a few hours ago he was dead on the kitchen table.  He looked brilliantly alive, old King Ramsey, with his eyes sparkling and talking rapidly on the phone to Ryan.  Jack seemed to be in the same boat, staring at Geoff with wide, admiring eyes.  Ray was, as usual, tapping away on his DS but even he wasn't able to stop giving glances to Geoff, as if he couldn't believe it either.

"What do you mean he's gone?!" Geoff shouted.  "Fucking find him!  Handcuff Denecour to the car if you have to, we need Collins!  He's been a private investigator to the cops for who knows how long - there's no knowing how much information he has on the LSPD."  Geoff paused and Gavin could hear Ryan's frantic voice on the other end of the line.  "That's right, you better run, Haywood."

Gavin snickered.  Geoff set his phone on the coffee table and sat down beside Jack, reaching out and lacing their fingers together.

"Alright, empire business," Geoff said, glancing over at Gavin and Jack.  "Ray, how is Kovic doing with Fakehaus?"

"Pushing drugs, ruining families, the usual," Ray shrugged.  "But, you know, keeping Edgar's soul-sucking shit off the streets.  I think Rubin wants to have an actual meeting with the whole crew, instead of working with just me.  Something about stopping Spoole from idolizing you too much."

"I deserve every bit of his idolization," Geoff said archly.

"Sure boss," Ray scoffed.  "Anyway, they're doing fine."

Geoff seemed satisfied and Gavin ignored what Ray didn't say - how Edgar's drugs were getting more and more powerful, sucking in victims that seemed to follow Edgar like zombie minions.  How Bruce and Joel were fighting over which direction they were taking their own crew.  The foolish romantic and sexual tension between all of them (and how Gavin hoped he and Michael didn't look that stupid).

"Our other boys doing good?" Geoff turned to Jack.

"Yeah," Jack said.  "Screwfakes got weapons under control, but I think they're having a bit of trouble with the other dealers.  Someone named Mr. D is holding up the docks, Chad said he'd keep us updated.  Kinda Fakes apparently had issues with their last hit and Greg's outta commission.  They also might be rebelling against you a tiny bit because we don't have a crew doctor.  Just rumors, whispers, you know how it is Geoff."

"Oh, don't I," Geoff sighed, slouching a bit in his seat.  He lifted up Jack's hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his hand.  "Okay, big plan - we hire these cops and their friends, then have a big, fucking crew get away, like up in the desert at Ryan's house and do a shit ton of team building exercises.  We spent a long time building up the empire and I'm not losing it because we're not united.  Fucking team building time!"

"You sound like a stupid camp counselor," Gavin laughed.  "Building team unity!  The Fake AH way!"

They dissolved into laughter and even Geoff grinned, reaching out to swat Gavin in the head.  Gavin squawked and dodged the hit.  That prompted a miniature run around the penthouse with Geoff tackling Gavin midway to the kitchen.  Gavin desperately tried to crawl away, but Geoff had a firm hand around his legs and Gavin couldn't move.  The door in the back creaked open and out hobbled Matt Bragg, leaning heavily on Jeremy Dooley.

Gavin sat up, Geoff sitting up beside him.  Something in the two cops changed, Gavin noticed instantly.  His whole role in the crew was to read people - find liars and cheats in the underground of Los Santos.  Matt and Jeremy looked harder, stronger now.  They had made their choice and Gavin knew it.  Jeremy had guilt in his eyes but he looked determined.

"Geoff Ramsey?" he called out.  "We'll join your crew."

Geoff grinned and jumped up from the ground.  He caught up both cops in a hug.  "Welcome to the family."

The front door opened and in came Michael and Ryan, two men handcuffed between them.  One looked terrified, with sandy hair and big blue eyes.  The other looked like he was ready to snap Ryan in half, with dark hair and even darker eyes.  Gavin grinned at the sight of Michael, even though he had a bruise growing on one cheek and a cut on his lip.  Ryan looked the same, with blood in his eyes and scowling.

At the sight of Matt, bruised and bloodied to hell and back, the lighter haired one gasped.

"'M fine, Caleb," Matt said in a hoarse voice.

Geoff turned around and his face settled into the calm mask he used when negotiating with tricky kingpins.  Jack stood up from the couch, coming up next to Geoff and slipping their hands together.  The two of them were the power couple of Los Santos and Gavin was excited to see them convince these two men to join their crew.

"Caleb and Trevor," Geoff said, no emotion on his face.  "I have a proposition for you."

"No!" Trevor snapped, trying to yank himself free of Ryan.  "You send your guard dogs after us, fucking chase me down, and drag us here to proposition us?  Haven't you heard of a goddamn phone call?"

"As if you'd answer a phone call from me," Geoff countered.  "So are you going to join my crew?  Or do I have to convince you?"

Trevor kept glaring and, to be honest, it was a shame.  He had a pretty face, baby faced even, with big eyes that looked innocent.  The things that Gavin could use that face for, oh it made him shiver.  Innocent looking Trevor, wheedling his way into police stations and into the homes of other people.  Trevor could get all the information from respectable people that wouldn't trust Ray or Gavin.

"Um," Caleb spoke up gently.  "Do you have someone who can look at Matt?  Like a doctor?"

"Unless we hire you, nope," Geoff said casually.  "Does that convince you?"

Caleb hesitated and Gavin knew they had him.

"You're only a coroner," Jack said in his soothing, mothering voice.  "You were my coroner, in fact.  And from what I could see, you're wasted on that work.  By all means, you should be a doctor, a real doctor in a hospital, but you're not.  Just like how Matt and Jeremy stayed in traffic instead of moving up the totem pole."

"I'm in," Caleb said.  "Please just... let me take care of him.  His leg needs stitches."

Geoff nodded.  "Jack will go with you, show you our medical supplies.  We'll have a talk with Trevor."

Gavin hopped up and followed Jack and Caleb to one of the back rooms, Jeremy helping Matt limp behind them.  Part of his job was to screen all new hires, and that included these three men.  So Gavin put on all his clumsy airs and prepared himself for a micro interrogation.

Jack's room had been the temporary infirmary (because Jack was never in his room anyway) complete with hospital equipment - thank god for Amazon.  Jeremy lifted Matt onto the bed and stood beside him, holding his hand tight.  Caleb followed Jack around the room as he explained where all the tools were.  Gavin saw this opportunity and grabbed it with both hands.

"How long have you two been partners?" he asked, practically bounding into the other seat by the bed.

Both of them flushed and stammered something that Gavin couldn't catch.  How interesting.  He stored that in the back of his mind for later.

"I mean as cops," Gavin clarified.  He tried not to giggle as Matt and Jeremy shared an awkward glance and blushed even deeper.

"Oh!" Jeremy said.  "Yeah, I mean, of course, as cops.  Um... since we were in basic training, actually."

"Ultimate besties then," Gavin grinned.  Oh this was gonna be fun.  "You know, me and Michael are the same, sorta.  Been best friends since we became a crew basically.  He's my boi."

"Yeah," Jack scoffed, walking over with Caleb, both geared up to stitch up Matt.  "Friends."

"What about you and Geoff?" Gavin countered.  "You two in your bloody domestic bliss and not even telling us?"

"At least we didn't pine after each other for weeks before doing something about it," Jack teased.

"Meaning dying," Gavin clarified.

"Yeah, that," Jack chuckled.  "Anyway, Caleb, how's he look?"

Caleb reached out and prodded Matt's leg.  He stiffened and let out a groan, squeezing Jeremy's hand until his knuckles were white.  Caleb moved up to Matt's face, twisting it left and right, poking at the bruises and testing his eyes.

"Whoever did this was careful about it," Caleb eventually said.  "There's no concussion, the knife missed the femoral artery, and nothing's broken.  You are going to need stitches though, Matt, and a lot of rest and ice."

"That's fine," Gavin cut in before Matt could respond.  "You're with us now.  You can stay here until you're healed.  Jack will deal with the station.  Trust me.  We look out for our own and that includes you."

Three sets of eyes turned to Gavin, wide with surprise.  It's as if they've never experienced loyalty.  Though being trapped in a useless system that ignored their abilities would've ruined it.  Their years of loyalty and hard work amounted to nothing.

"We killed Geoff Ramsey," Jeremy said with a broken voice.  "We killed your boss and hunted your crew.  How - how can you say that?  How can you just... let us in with no questions asked?"

Gavin shrugged.  "You had the chance to run away, to say no, and instead you chose to stay.  Geoff said he's a benevolent king and that's true.  No one is good in this city, you just pick which evil to side with.  If you're with us, then we're family, okay?  Anyway, it looks like you've got this under control, I'm gonna head to bed.  Busy day and all that."

Gavin didn't hesitate to bound out of the room, leaving Jack with three new recruits.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ray's heist is pretty divergent from canon heist because, you know, immortality.
> 
> Also realized that it's been a year since I started this! Happy Immortal-versary :)

Ray knocked on Geoff's door.  Normally, he'd just stroll right into his boss's office, but after an apparently traumatizing visit by Michael ("I didn't even know Geoff could bend that much!") Ray had taken to knocking first.  He heard a muffled shout and took that as his cue to walk in.  Thankfully, Geoff was sitting at his desk, fully clothed, staring at the laptop in front of him.

"Oh, Ray, just the kid I wanted to see!" Geoff grinned, sliding his laptop to the side.  "I was thinking about some crew bonding games.  How do you feel about a murderer hunt?"

"Um, yes?" Ray guessed.  "Anyway, that's not why I'm here."  Ray sat down in the chair, pulling out a flash-drive and sliding it across to Geoff.  "Edgar's drugs are getting out of hand.  We need to do something before the entire city is under his control.  I have this plan, a stupid plan, really, but a plan.  We're going to steal his drug truck.  If he has no drugs then he can't sell."

Geoff's eyes were narrowed as he plugged the flash-drive into his laptop, scrolling over the files that Ray collected.  Ray wasn't stupid - he knew this was officially declaring war against the other bosses in Los Santos.  The Fake AH had grown in the past months, becoming a real contender in the business, but they had been passive.  This would bring them to the attention of every other criminal in the city.  Edgar, The Corpirate, Mr. D, so many others.

"Ray," Geoff started.

"Look, I know, it's a big jump," Ray said.  "But we're ready for this, aren't we?"

"You know what?  I think we are," Geoff said, his eyes twinkling fondly.  "Do you wanna do it sooner or later?"

"Uh, sooner, I guess," Ray shrugged.  "Fakehaus has had a lot of problems with Edgar and maybe this will help them feel better about taking some time off."

"Sounds good to me," Geoff snapped the laptop shut and stood up.  "Let's go tell the others then."

* * *

Jack flew the chopper as close to the bridge as he dared.  Geoff and Gavin had cornered Edgar's drug truck, pushing it to the shoulder.

"We got the goods!" Geoff said, ripping the door open and jumping in, driving off without Gavin.

"Geoff!" Gavin squawked and fruitlessly ran after the truck.

"Sorry, Gavvers!" Geoff hollered on the comms as the drug truck drove away.

Jack called out for Gavin and he scrambled up the ladder into the chopper.  Once all his limbs were settled into his seat Jack took off again.  Down on the streets Michael followed Geoff in the Bifta as the cop cars came swarming down the streets.  Ray was off beyond the tunnel waiting in his fucking limo and Ryan was careening down the street on a bike.

There was a hail of bullets and the van spun out, blood sprayed on the window.  Jack's heart lurched in his chest, a mantra of  _oh, God, Geoff_ , running through his head.  Michael literally jumped out of his car, tumbling down the tarmac as his Bifta drifted off.  He climbed into the truck as more cops sped down the highway.  Jack heard muffled shouting in the comms and Gavin was screaming behind him.

He brought his focus back into the chopper, into things that were real, the lights of the cops flashing on the drug truck, the feeling of the throttle in his hand.  Sound rushed back into his ears, overpowering the static and panicked thoughts that Geoff was shot.

"What happened down there?!" Gavin was yelling.  "Is Geoff okay?!"

"No, he's dead!" Michael shouted and Jack's heart sank.  "I don't know how long he'll be out for, but we gotta get outta here!"

Oh.  Right.  Immortality.

Something in Jack suddenly felt a little bit lighter.  There was silence across the comms as if the entire crew was just remembering it as well.

"Oh my god," Ray spoke first.  "We're immortal."

Suddenly things became so much more possible.  There was nothing that could really stop them from being successful in their heists now.  Jack could crash the cargobob into the horde of police cars and walk away.  Ryan could do a drive-by with no fear.  Michael and Geoff could trade driving and dying.  Ray could fly down the mountain and die in a blaze of glory.

"We should stick to the plan as much as possible," Ryan said immediately.  "Michael and Geoff can move the drugs into the limo and Ray can drive away before we blow the truck.  The rest of us can distract the cops."

"You mean murder the cops," Ray said with a fond voice.

Ryan made a noncommittal noise and Jack watched him swerve the bike between the cop cars, gun blazing.

Jack swallowed and prepared himself to do something really, really stupid.  Gavin crawled up next to Jack and braced himself in the seat.

"Do it, Jack," Gavin said.  "They need the distraction and we have a cargobob."

"We've done it before, after all," Jack agreed, remembering back to Ryan's heist when their chopper was shot down.

Taking a breath, Jack angled the chopper for the cluster of cop cars and dove.  The last thing he heard before the explosion took everything was Geoff's frantic voice.

* * *

The explosion behind Michael was fiery at best and an inferno at worst.  The chopper blew up and the cars exploded into each other in a flaming ball of death.  Ryan zipped out of the explosion like a goddamn action movie hero and slid up next to the truck.  Geoff was awake now and none to happy about being pressed up against the passenger seat while Michael sat in a puddle of Geoff's blood.

"Ray's on his way," Ryan announced, picking off stragglers as they came closer to the tunnel.  "I'm going to run interference on any leftover cops and try to find a way for us to get back home."

"Dude, you look awesome," Michael said with feeling, because it bore saying sometimes.  With the skull mask and flames licking his leather jacket, Ryan looked like Hell Rider and it was fucking awesome and a little bit terrifying.

Ryan flashed a peace sign and pealed away from Michael and back into the fray.

"Ray, what's your ETA?" Geoff asked, sitting up in his seat and rubbing his chest where the flurry of bullets had hit him.

"Um," Ray hesitated.  "Sorta tumbling down a mountain right now, be there in a few."

"Ray, I swear to god, if you blow up that limo-"

"Please, Geoff, like I would- ooooh no that's a tree!  Nope nope nope!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ray," Michael muttered.  He threw some sticky bombs out the window and pressed his foot on the gas, lurching the truck into top speed towards the fire.

"Where are we going?" Geoff asked as Michael swerved between cars.

"Back for Jack and Gavin," Michael said.  "We can't let the cops get them first."

Geoff huffed and sat up straighter, pulling out his rifle and rubbing his chest where the bullets went through.  Michael crashed through cars and saw Ryan's limp body underneath his motorcycle, flames still engulfed around his body.  When he woke up he would be trapped.

"Geoff, drive the car," Michael said, eyes locked on Ryan's dead body.  "I gotta save the goddamn Ghost Rider."

Without waiting for an answer, Michael dove from the car.  He skidded across the tarmac, road rash already spreading across his arms and legs.  His shirt was torn to shreds and he had a tear in his pants.  And maybe a concussion.

Stumbling back to his feet, Michael looked around to the chaos.  It looked a lot more threatening on the ground than it did in the truck.  Geoff was driving off to the wreckage of the chopper and Michael stumbled over to Ryan.

"Okay guys, the limo is - where the fuck are you?" Ray's voice crackled through the comms.  "I got the limo here, let's move the drugs!"

"Be right there, Ray," Michael fell onto the ground just as Ryan's eyes flickered open.

"Did I win?" Ryan grinned.

"Oh, yeah," Michael nodded.  "Looked fucking awesome."

Together they pushed the bike off of Ryan.  He didn't look worse for wear, just a couple of bruises on his legs and a broken ankle.  Nothing their new doc couldn't fix up.  A rush of affection suddenly hit Michael at the realization there was someone to keep them alive and well.

The limo rolled up beside them and Ray threw his arms around Ryan, pulling him down for a heavy kiss.  Ryan always seemed to get softer around Ray, soft smiles and warm gazes.

Geoff drove the drug truck slowly up to the limo, Jack and Gavin hanging off the edges, in one piece with charred clothes.  The bridge was completely covered with burning bits of shrapnel and flaming remnants of cars.  It looked like something out of a goddamn action film.

Michael grabbed Gavin and kissed him.  Here was his boy, whole and healthy in his arms.  He smelled like blood and soot and Michael let Gavin deepen the kiss, tilting his head to the side and digging his fingers into Gavin's waist.

"Save it, boys," Geoff laughed, even as he wrapped himself around Jack.  "Let's get these drugs to our warehouses and leave a message for Edgar."

Ray drove the limo away from the burning wreckage and Michael pressed the button on his detonator.  The truck, cars, and entire bridge burst into flames.  This made it official: the Fake AH Crew was going to be a contender in the city.


	16. Chapter 16

The struggle that came after Ray's heist was immediate.  Geoff felt the pressure from the other crime bosses to prove himself.  He had his crew, his penthouse suite, his offices and territories.  He had his heists and even a logo.  The question is whether or not he had the power to back it up.

And he was quickly learning that he didn't.  Fakehaus was locked in a constant give and take with Edgar.  The Screwfakes had to go back underground as Mr. D took over the docks and the weapons trade.

As for his boys?  They were spread thin, trying to keep their fragile foothold in the city.  Jack was constantly on the phone with Bruce and Craig trying to keep them together.  Ryan and Michael were running back and forth across the city, threatening targets and murdering traitors.  Gavin was run ragged, bags under his eyes as he continued to try and charm others.

Then his four new recruits.  Matt and Jeremy were lying low in the police department, stuck writing traffic tickets and keeping their heads down.  Trevor kept an ear open to the underground but couldn't catch any sign of Edgar or the Corpirate while Caleb jump-started his own underground practice.

But time went on and the struggle only got harder.

 

**Monday**

"Geoff," Jack came into his office, subdued with his phone in hand.  Geoff was up from his desk in an instant.  Jack's eyes were misty behind his glasses and his hands were shaking.  "Fakehaus is gone.  I - I don't know where they went.  Edgar torched their base."

"Oh god."

"No bodies found," Jack's voice cracked.  "Not yet.  Gav is... Gav is looking into it."

"You can't let him see the footage," Geoff said, his head spinning with the images of the Fakehaus base burning on the beach, of Edgar walking away while they screamed.  If Gavin saw it then he would be a literal mess.

"It's all over the news, Geoff."

The door to the office opened and the rest of his crew was in the doorway.  Gavin looked like he was going to faint, held up by a pale Michael.  Ray had his hoodie donned, hand tangled with Ryan's.  They all looked to Geoff for answers.

After all, Geoff always had the answers.  He had the answer for how to use their immortality for glory.  He had the answer for each heist.  He had the answer for what to do with Matt and Jeremy, Caleb and Trevor.

Whenever shit hit the fan, Geoff was there to fix it.

"What do we do, Geoff?" Gavin asked.  He was trembling against Michael's shoulder.

"We can't let them get away with this," Ryan interjected.  "We knew that Ray's heist was dangerous.  We knew what we were getting into, starting a war."

"I don't... I don't know, boys," Geoff finally said, lowering his head.  "I don't know what to do."

Jack's arms circled around Geoff and pulled him in close.  Even here, losing sight of the tentative hold in the city, Jack was keeping Geoff safe.

The door snapped shut.

 

**Thursday**

Geoff saw the explosion from the penthouse.  The Corpirate had blown up half of Little Seoul to fuck with Geoff's drug trade and the Kinda Fakes ran into hiding as well.  Michael was sitting on the sofa in the living room, still nursing a black eye and broken ankle from Tuesday after Ammu-nation refused to sell him any weapons.

Caleb had done everything he could but Michael was still grounded from going into the field.  Gavin had been beside himself with worry.

"Ten bucks says he blows up the office building next," Michael said casually.

"That's not funny," Geoff snapped.

"Yeah, I know," Michael said.

Sirens wailed and Geoff could see the cops and firetrucks make their way to the fires.  It was a test, dammit.  All of this was a goddamn test.  The Corpirate was testing to see if Geoff had what it took to be a contender.  He let Geoff build a crew and start some shit only to squash it into nothing.

"Ray's getting cold feet," Michael mentioned.

"About what?"

"Everything."

Geoff clenched his hands behind his back but didn't turn around.  He kept staring at Los Santos burning.

"He's used to running solo," Michael said softly.  There was the sound of plastic on wood and footsteps coming up to Geoff.  Michael rested a hand on Geoff's shoulder as they both looked out over the city.  "Used to being under the radar, you know.  Little burglaries here and there, none of this grandeur."

"What do you think?" Geoff asked, turning to look at Michael.

Michael looked up at Geoff, lips quirked in a mischievous half smile even as another explosion echoed across the city.  "Oh, Geoff.  I'm in for the long haul."

 

**Sunday**

They were a sad and sorry sight gathered in Michael's little apartment.  The penthouse was broken into on Saturday and everything was destroyed, even Ryan's secret stash of weapons.  They were down to handguns and petty cash.  Anyone who showed a sliver of loyalty to the Fake AH was dead.

"If we go down, we go down fighting," Geoff said.  "We'll just came back to life anyway.  All I'm asking is one last heist.  One last chance to prove ourselves to this city.  Michael, you got one last favor to call in, right?"

"Right, boss."

"Call in the tank.  We're going to create a flying death machine the likes of which Los Santos has never seen after we rob each of the Corpirate's businesses."

As Geoff laid out his plan, a big 'Fuck You' to the Corpirate and his cronies, he could see the light start to sparkle in the eyes of his crew.  Gavin flipped on his golden sunglasses, Michael's fingers started twitching.  Ryan cracked his knuckles and Ray was nodding.

"Tomorrow," Jack said, resting a hand on Geoff's knee.  "I can have the chopper by tomorrow night."

"Then we do it tomorrow," Geoff grabbed Jack's hand and held onto it tightly.  "The Fake AH Grand Heist."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kind of want to scrap the earlier chapters and rewrite it since I found the plot. Thoughts?


	17. Chapter 17

**Ray**

There were so many of them, Ray realized as his crew was running to the plane.  There were cops and mercenaries all over the airport.  Michael's tank was doing one hell of a job keeping the police choppers at bay, but there was only so much he could do.

The comms were a mess, cheap ones that Ryan whipped up overnight that couldn't handle the shouting or bullets or explosions.  Ray could only hear half of what the crew was shouting and only heard Gavin squawking and screeching.

"Hurry up!"

That was Geoff.

"I'm coming, guys!  Wait up!"

And there was Michael, running across the hanger into the titan.

"What about Ray?!"

And of course, Gavin's bird-like cry.

There was only one thing Ray could do.  The only thing he knew to do.

"Go without me!  I'll hold them off!"

He had no place in a crew, Ray knew that.  He didn't belong in a group with that much power and influence.  He was raised as a thief, born in the shadows.  He lived for anonymity, for being alone.

A thief and a sniper, that is what Ray was.  That is all he could ever be.

"No!  Ray!"

Ryan's voice cut him deep and Ray almost ran to the plane.  Ryan with his thick, steady arms.  Ryan who died for him, who came back to him.  Ryan who Ray was learning to love.

Ryan who Ray was leaving.

The titan slowly left the hanger and Ray kept firing.  He heard the cheers as the plane started to take off, rocky and wobbly, but airborne.  The cops converged on Ray and he fired his rifle only to hear a click.  Empty.  He dropped it and lifted his handgun (a gift from Ryan ages ago) and fired.

Gunshots echoed in the hanger and Ray could feel each of them as the cops sprayed him down.  Blood pooled beneath him, hot and thick.  His vision flickered in and out and his head started spinning.

"Goodbye, Ryan."

He fell over into death, the sound of Ryan's voice echoing in his ear.

 

**Gavin**

Ryan was crying.  That was the first thing that hit Gavin as they climbed higher and higher into the sky.  Ryan  _never_ cried.  Not when Ray went missing for almost an entire week.  Not when they watched that nature documentary about baby animals.  Not when Gavin crashed his bike.

But he was crying now, huddled in the back of the plane and shouting Ray's name over and over again.

"He's gonna come back," Jack tried to assure Ryan.  "Immortality, Ryan."

"Come back to life, yeah, but not back here," Ryan said with a sniff.  "He's gone, Jack."

Something somber settled over the crew and Gavin's stomach did a funny flip.  If what Ryan said was true then he was never going to Ray again.  He remembered how hard it was for Geoff to try and track down Ray.  If he was going underground then he was gone.

"But Team Lads," he whispered pitifully.  "He's my partner in crime.  X-Ray and Vav.  How can he... why would he... I don't..."

The handles of the plane slipped from his hands but Gavin hardly noticed.

"How could he leave us like this?"

"Gavin!"

"Weren't we enough for him?  I thought we were like family."

"Gavin, the plane!"

"And Ryan..."

"Gavin!"

Something was beeping loudly in Gavin's ears but he couldn't reach out to turn it off.  His entire body had gone numb.  Someone launched themselves at him and he heard the sound of bullets breaking through the hull of the titan.

Sure, things were hard for them right now as a crew, but they were going to get back up.  Why couldn't Ray stay and see that?  They weren't a crew without him, without their sniper.  This was their Grand Heist.  The heist to prove they could rule this city.

An explosion shook the plane and Gavin felt himself fall thousands of miles above Los Santos.

 

**Michael**

He woke up drowning.  Deep in the ocean, Michael snapped back to life.  He was choking and couldn't take in his first breath.  Pushing as much life into his waterlogged limbs as he could, Michael swam for the surface.

His vision went spotty and he inhaled a lung full of water.  He could barely see the moonlight in his fading vision.  His arms and legs felt like lead as he kept going to the surface.

He had to...

 

Michael woke up again in the ocean, this time he felt the sand beneath his cold, rubbery hands.  He took in a deep breath of water and felt his chest constrict with it.  The water pushed him against the sand, back and forth as he tried desperately to claw for the surface.

He wondered if Gavin was suffering like he was or if he on land, dry and alive.

The waves pushed him down and Michael felt his eyes drift shut.

 

He was on land.  On a wet beach with the waves cresting over his legs.  It was fucking freezing as Michael rolled over and vomited water.  He coughed and shivered and slowly sat up.  The moon was starting to set over the ocean.

Weakly, Michael stood up in sopping wet clothes, heavy on his quivering frame as he tried to get his bearings.  He had no idea how long he was dying in the ocean, tossed and turned by the waves.  Dying then coming back to life and dying again.

Bits of burning plane were still in the ocean, but it looked like most of the plane was sunk with no sign of anyone alive.

He tried to shout except all that came out was a croak.  His throat torn apart by the salt water and the drowning.  Michael had no clue if the cops were still looking for them.

Still, he had to do something.  With stiff limbs and heavy clothes, Michael climbed up from the beach to find a road.

 

**Ryan**

He almost wanted to call it fate that he landed in the airport.  Ray would be long gone by now, he came back to life faster than Ryan ever did.  But he could run away too.

Gingerly, Ryan stood up.  His joints ached in protest but he had to move.  The airfield looked haunting, bloodstains on the tarmac surrounded by bullet casings.  There was glass and plastic littering the ground and tread marks from Michael's tank.

It looked like a battlefield.

Hobbling as fast as he could, Ryan went to the nearest hanger.  The mainland was about four hours away in a jet.  He may not know where Ray went but he could put as much distance from Los Santos as he could to find him.

Fuck, Ryan would travel across all the world to find Ray.

There were bloodstains on the floor, Ryan noticed first.  Bloodstains, bullet casings, tire marks.

This was where Ray died.

Funny. how seeing it hurt so much worse than hearing it.  Ray was  _gone_.  Didn't even leave a message for Ryan.  Just said goodbye and bounced.  After... after all that Ray had done to capture Ryan's attention, to change  _everything_ that Ryan had believed in, he left.

The soft click of a gun echoed in the empty hanger.

"Sir!  You don't belong here!"

Ryan slowly turned until he came face to face with a security guard.  He was slightly pudgy but held his gun with confidence.  He had a nametag.  Mitch.  Belatedly, Ryan realized he didn't have his mask on.  He must've lost it in the fall.

"Sorry, Mitch," Ryan said.  "Didn't realize there was fight out here."

"Are you fucking deaf?" Mitch said.  "There's been nonstop cops for the past seven hours!  The Fake AH Crew stole one of Edgar's planes!  They got shot down though, before they could make their escape, thank Christ."

"So why are you still here?" Ryan asked.

"In case any scumbag Fake decided to come gather the corpses," Mitch replied.  "Well, corpse.  Just one dead guy on the ground.  The twink sniper."

Ryan was punching Mitch before he could finish processing the sentence.  He unloaded half the pistol into Mitch's head, blood and brain matter splattering the floor until Mitch was only half the face he used to be.

He threw the gun down with a clatter and moved on to the next hanger.  He needed a jet.

 

**Jack**

Unlike the rest of the idiot crew, Jack had a parachute.  Unfortunately, it was shot the instant he pulled it.  He woke up smeared on the side of the mountain, parachute in tatters behind him.  No sign of the crew in sight.

Still, Jack was made to endure and that's what he was going to do.

He spent the next several hours climbing up Chiliad.  The night was chilly and goosebumps broke out over his bare arms and legs.  He watched as the moon set and the stars twinkled away.  By the time he made it to the top of the mountain, the sun was rising, turning the sky a pale pink and orange.

There was no telling where the rest of the crew was.  All the comms were broken when the plane exploded and they each jumped out of it in different directions.  His best bet would be to head down to the city and find Geoff.

Jack jogged to the nearest car and broke into it with practiced ease.  He hot-wired it with no trouble and was on the road before the sun broke the horizon.

There were some contingency plans that Geoff and Jack occasionally discussed.  Most of it involved sketchy motels and fake identities but the point of it was for them to meet up with no planning whatsoever.

He drove down to the edge of Los Santos.  The sun was slowly rising, pale yellow suffusing the air and turning the sky pink and purple.  The radio was talking about the failed heist and disastrous plane crash from the night before.

The only question that seemed to rattle through Jack's head is where the rest of the boys were.  He saw Michael dive for Gavin before the plane exploded.  Ryan had jumped but Jack hadn't seen where he went.  He remembered locking eyes with Geoff, watching him get engulfed with flames.

His hands tightened against the steering wheel.  They blew up over the ocean and close to the airfield.  Chances are Geoff landed in either the ocean, the airport, or on the mountain close to Jack.

The neon sign was turned off by this time of day, but it was still glaringly pink against the brown mountains.   _Meg_ _'s_ was one of the more elegant strip clubs this side of Los Santos.  Geoff had known her since he first landed in the city and, despite every bit of bribery from him, Meg refused to join the crime scene.  She lived a successful life and wasn't about to leave it.

She was a friend to Geoff but not to the gang.

Jack pulled up to the empty parking lot and killed the engine.  He took a deep breath in the silence.  He was alive.  His boys were alive, wherever they were.  He was going to find Geoff and it was going to be okay.

Stepping out of the car, Jack cracked his aching back.  The door to  _Meg's_ was painted flaming purple.  Not bothering to knock, he stepped inside.  It opened to a bright and cheery foyer that lead back to the actual club.

"Not open," a pretty blonde woman said at the counter, popping her gum.  "Closed a few hours ago actually."

"I'm here for Meg," Jack said.  "She knows Geoff."

The woman sat up straight.  "You're in luck.  He just arrived."

 

**Geoff**

The coffee was warm even though Geoff wish it had more whiskey in it.  Meg looked fucking exhausted, makeup off and wrapped in sweats.  She was nursing her own mug filled with tea as Geoff told the story.  They were sitting in Meg's office, her in a squashy armchair and Geoff in a rickety stool.  Her desk was immaculate with cat decor hanging on the shelves.

"If you bring fucking Edgar down on me, Geoff," Meg threatened.

"He thinks we're dead," Geoff croaked.  He took a heavy swig of coffee.  "No one knows about the immortality other than our crew.  Gavin hacked the LSPD.  Everyone thinks we just survived by miracles.  I would never put you in danger."

Meg gave a half smile.  "So long as we're clear."

The two drank in silence as the sun slowly warmed the strip club.  Geoff hoped wherever his boys were that they were happy and together.  He could still hear the echos of Ryan's cries as Ray said goodbye.  Could still see Michael diving for Gavin as the plane spiraled out of control.

Could still see Jack, wanting desperately to say so much in so little time.

The door opened and Geoff snapped to the door.  The silhouette was so painfully familiar Geoff almost cried.

"Geoff?"

Fuck, Geoff was crying.

He practically dropped the coffee onto the ground as he ran for Jack.  With wide open arms Jack completely engulfed him.  It was warm and safe and Jack smelled so much of  _home_ that Geoff didn't stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks.

"Oh, my god, Jack," Geoff pulled back from the embrace and rested his hands of Jack's cheeks.  They were immortals but goddamn that was the scariest moment of Geoff's life.  "I thought - "

"I know, Geoff, I know," Jack said.

And just like that Geoff was pulling him in for a kiss.  Jack's arms pulled Geoff closer even as his mouth opened with a gasp.  Hungrily, Geoff tugged him in closer until they were pressed tight, thighs, hips and chest.

They pulled apart, gasping for breath.

"What are we going to do?" Jack asked.

"The only thing we can do," Geoff said.  "We have to leave.  We tried, Jack.  Goddamn did we try, but we can't.  It's for the best we go underground.  Maybe, shit, maybe years from now we get back together, but not right now."

Jack nodded, his hands were warm pressed against Geoff's spine.

"You know," Meg said loudly from where she was sitting.  "I hear Orlando is pretty."

 

**Lindsay**

The mirror was fogged up from her shower.  Lindsay reached out and signed her name elaborately on the mirror, water dripping down her legs and pooling on the floor.  Her blonde hair was starting to grow out but Meg swore the brown roots still looked good.

"Linds!  Stop hogging the shower!"

Wrapping herself in a fluffy robe, Lindsay opened the bathroom door, steam billowing out.  Her roommate was in a huff, tapping her toe on the floor.  She looked adorable with her pink tips and Lindsay couldn't help but laugh.

"C'mon, Mica, it was only twenty minutes."

"Meg's calling in a favor, I have no other choice."

Lindsay stopped where she was wrapping her hair in a towel.  Mica wasn't one of Meg's dancers nor was she one of the bookkeepers, like Lindsay was.  In face, Mica spent her free time mindlessly shoplifting chips and getting into fights.

"What does Meg need you to do?  Did some asshole get too handsy again?"

"She needs me to fly a couple of gang members out of town," Mica shrugged, stepping into the bathroom and stripping down.

"Which gang?" Lindsay asked, politely turning as Mica jumped into the shower.

"Fake something or other.  I guess they got run out by the Corpirate and Meg offered to get them to the mainland."

The shower started and filled the bathroom with white noise.  Lindsay stopped where she was moisturizing and stared at the mirror.  Her signature was dripping water through the condensation on the mirror and Lindsay could only catch flashes of her clear reflection.

She had heard of the Fakes.  How the Fake AH built themselves to be a contender within a year and a half.  They pulled of ridiculous heists that somehow managed to work.  They gained territories and were looking to put the Corpirate out of business.

Barbara heard all the rumors and eagerly spread them among the girls at  _Meg's_.  The Fakes were honest, good men.  Sure, they were criminals, but they took out the shit that Edgar was selling, hunted down rapists and pedophiles.  They protected their own and gained the loyalty that made kingpins threatening.

Los Santos was never going to be a wholesome city.  It was run by criminals and crooked politicians.  There were drugs and weapons and explosions at every turn.  But it could be run by a benevolent ruler.

As Lindsay watched her name slowly drip down the mirror she knew what she was going to do.

"So when do we leave?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a sequel in the works in my head. Might take a long time, but it's there.


End file.
